


Life Is More Than Just Surviving (But We Aren't the Survivors You Think We Are)

by knich94



Category: Lost, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Bisexual Female Character, Blood and Injury, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Clexa are eternal, Crash Landing, Desert Island, Drama, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Hunting, Killer Gorillas, Lesbian Character, Lincoln and Lexa are bros, More tags to be added, Pregnancy, Soldier!Lexa, Survival, Trigedasleng, War Paint, doctor!clarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:46:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 83,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knich94/pseuds/knich94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a plane crash leaves 48 people stranded on an island, the survivors hope for a quick rescue. While they navigate survival and life on the island, they discover that everyone is not who they seem. Basically, the Clexa Lost AU (without the science fiction) that I was dying to write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A television pilot is a standalone episode of a series that is used to sell the show to a television network. It is meant to be the testing ground to gauge whether a series will be successful. In the case of a successful television series, the pilot is commonly the very first episode that is aired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Lost and I love the 100 and was inspired to write this so I did! It will follow both the shows, except I didn’t really want to take 6 seasons and a meh ending (still cried though) to resolve this, so I cut out the science fiction stuff and it’s basically them just surviving on the island. Flashbacks are in italics! I haven't proofread yet, but I will in the morning!

**Day 0**

            Eyes shoot open, blue assaulted with visions of green – green bushes, green leaves, green trees. Still stunned, the blonde woman lies there on the ground and tries to catch her breath and remember what is going on. She moves to sit up but winces as a pain sears through her side.

            Suddenly, she hears the crack of a branch, and she turns her head towards the sound of the noise. She watches as a yellow lab walks towards her and stops above her, bending down to place a sloppy, wet kiss to her cheek. She groans and moves her head away from the assault as pain lances through a cut on her cheek. After another lick over her mouth, the dog whimpers and turns and runs into the forest.

            The blonde wrinkles her brow in confusion. ‘Why am in the forest? Why is there a dog here?’ She grabs a nearby tree with her left hand and uses it to pull herself to a seated position, releasing a groan of pain from her side. She lifts up the edge of her white button down and finds red streaked across her side and stomach, but luckily it doesn’t seem that it is a serious injury. Pushing through the pain, she staggers to her feet, leaning against a tree for support.

            She puts her hand to her temples, trying to rub away the headache that has formed there. After another moment of catching her breath and cataloguing the pain from her injuries, she decides that she is all right to move and starts stumbling through the forest. After 100 feet, she hears faint noises and starts to speed up. When she determines that those noises are screams, she breaks into a shaky run, sprinting through the forest towards the source of the noises. The light in the forest grows stronger, and she pushes herself, knowing that the end is close. As she breaks through the last of the bushes, the bright light assaults her, and she is momentarily blinded. She holds up her hands to block some of the light, and her vision quickly adjusts.

            The blonde finds herself gazing at a beautiful beach with soft white sand, and the bluest ocean she has ever seen extending to the horizon. A gentle breeze lifts some of the strands of hair from her neck, cooling her. Then, she hears a scream coming from her right. Stepping out a few feet past the rest of the bushes, she is greeted with the sight of hell.

            Airplane wreckage is strewn across the beach, some on fire and some still running, but all disjointed from its original shape. Black smoke distorts the air, creating a haze across the beach. Yells cut through the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Bodies are running around aimlessly or lying completely still on the beach.

            For a moment, the woman is stunned at the contrast of this hellish scene in this tropical paradise, but the sound of a scream pushes her from her inactivity. She starts jogging towards the wreckage, looking for people who need help. She sees wounded already being aided and dives further into the wreckage, walking past people huddled together in fear. Over the loud sound of machinery and distressed cries for loved ones, she hears a call for help.

            “Help! Help me, please! Somebody help!”

            Navigating through the broken pieces of airplane and luggage, she runs toward the sound, finding a brunette, Latina woman trapped under a piece of wreckage. Looking around, she spies three men nearby.

            “You three, get over here and help me!” She points to the wreckage, and they move quickly to comply with her request. The men grab the wreckage and she grabs the trapped woman’s arms. “Lift on three, OK? One, two, THREE.”

            The men heave upwards and the blonde pulls with all her strength, dragging the woman out from under the wreckage and onto the sand. Bright red blood pools onto the crystal white sand underneath the woman’s left leg, and the blonde quickly removes her belt to tie a tourniquet around the woman’s thigh. At least one bone looks broken, but she  won’t be able to do anything about that until rescue comes.

            “Carry her away from the smoke and the wreckage, and cover her leg with a towel or a blanket, just try to keep the sand and dirt away from it.” The men nod at her orders and quickly move to pick the woman up.

Another distressed scream alerts the blonde, and she looks up to see a pregnant woman gasping for breath on all fours a hundred yards away. Leaving the Latina in hopefully good hands, she starts sprinting towards the pregnant woman, leaping over and around wreckage in her haste.

Sliding to a stop on the sand in front of the dark skinned, black haired young woman - a girl really – the blonde grabs the younger woman’s shoulders to make eye contact.

Panicked brown eyes meet blue. “Please, I’m having contractions. Help me, I-” the woman is cut off as she starts gasping for breath as pain lances through her body.

“How far along are you?” The older woman says as she grabs the younger woman’s hand, trying to comfort her.

“Nearly 8 months. Please, it’s too soon…”

“How far apart are the contractions? Did your water break?” The blonde looks around for a safe spot away from the wreckage that the pregnant woman can go to when she spots a tall, curly haired man performing chest compressions on another man.

The pregnant woman’s distressed voice brings the blonde’s attention back to her. “I, I don’t know, they just started.”

An explosion sounds somewhere behind them, and the older woman pushes the pregnant woman down to the ground, covering her body with her own. Flames shoot into the sky and flaming pieces of metal fly through the air, landing randomly and hitting several bystanders.

When the noise dies down, the blonde pulls the pregnant woman back upright, cupping her face with one hand. “Look, sweetie, it’s going to be OK. But you have to do exactly what I tell you. I’m going to move you somewhere safe, and then I need you need to sit absolutely still. I know your contractions hurt, but I need you to try and relax as much as possible.” A pained expression takes over the woman’s face again as another contraction rips through her.

Looking around for some assistance, she finds the man still performing chest compressions. Frustrated, she finds a tall, greasy haired man sauntering by. “Hey, you!” The blonde shouts at him.

Startled, the man stops, and upon seeing the pregnant woman, his eyes widen and he starts backing up. Before he can go too far, the blonde grabs his arm in a fierce grip, stopping him.

“I need you to take this woman over there, away from the smoke and fumes.”

A disgusted look takes over the man’s face. “No way lady, I’m not…”

The blonde tightens her grip and glares the man down. “Unless you want her giving birth on the beach in the middle of the wreckage, I need you to do as I say.” His eyes widen, from fear at her intense glare or fear of childbirth, she isn’t sure, but it doesn’t matter. “Take her over there and try to keep her calm and still. If her contractions start coming closer than 3 minutes apart, yell for me.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me…” The man grumbles.

The blonde turns away from the man and looks at the pregnant woman. “I will be right back, OK? He’s going to take care of you.” Brown eyes widen in fear, but the older woman has to go help the man performing chest compressions.

In her haste to get away, the blonde doesn’t see the man picking the pregnant woman up in his arms and start striding away with her. “I’m Maya.” The young woman shyly tells him. “Murphy.” The man grumpily huffs back at her.

“Hey! Blondie!” A snarky voice calls out from behind her. “What’s your name?”

The blonde doesn’t pause but merely yells over her shoulder, “Clarke!”

Running up to the man doing CPR, Clarke shoves him away from the other man. “Stop! His head isn’t tilted far enough back. You’re blowing air into his stomach, not his lungs.” She tilts the prone man’s head back farther and opens his mouth, pinching his nose and blowing air into his lungs.

“Are you sure? That looks exactly like what I was just doing.” The curly haired man questions her. “I’m a lifeguard, I am licensed in CPR.”

Clarke blows another puff of air into the man’s throat and puts her ear close to his mouth, listening for breath sounds. Hearing none, she sits up and starts performing chest compressions. Glaring at the man, she tells him, “You should seriously consider giving that license back.”

Watching Clarke pump on the dark skinned man’s chest, the curly haired brunette comes up with an idea. “Maybe we should do one of those things, with the pen? Stab the pen in his throat? That thing?”

Clarke looks up at him in exasperation that he wants her to do a tracheotomy with a pen on a beach in the middle of a plane crash, but when she sees that he is serious, she takes the opportunity to get rid of him. “You know, great idea! You go find me a pen.”

The man scrambles away, calling out to people and asking if they have a pen. Clarke rolls her eyes and finishes her round of chest compressions, then bends down to breathe into the man’s mouth again.

“C’mon, breathe dammit!” Clarke starts chest compressions again, pumps a few times, and suddenly, a gasping breath sounds from beneath her hands. Clarke puts her hands on the man’s chest to gently prevent him from getting up. “Deep breaths, you’re OK, easy.” Clarke tells him with relief. “Nathan, it's Clarke, I’m a doctor.”

“Hey.” The man chokes out, coughing and trying to catch is breath. Clarke soothingly rubs his chest, but is startled by the loud, creaking sound of metal. Turning around, she sees a wing of the plane teetering upright, about to break and fall to the ground, right on top of the pregnant woman and the man who was supposed to be helping her.

Without hesitation, Clarke jumps up and takes off running across the sound, ignoring the burning in her calves from running through the sand in flats and the pain from wound on her side. Gasping for breath, she starts yelling at them, but they don’t seem to hear her over the loud sounds of machinery.

Suddenly, a skinny woman dressed in what appears to be a business suit with a skirt is running towards the two, yelling at them and urging them up. Clarke can only watch as the wing of the plane starts teetering and falls, causing another loud explosion. Clarke is thrown back, and she curls into a ball and covers her head when a larger, second explosion occurs. As soon as the heat and the noise dies down, she stands, greeted with a wall of flame in front of her. Quickly, she runs around it, hoping that they made it to safety.

Clarke makes it around the flames and finds the pregnant woman on the ground shielded by the brunette’s body. The reluctant man is lying next to them, gasping for breath. Clarke breathes a sigh of relief but still runs over to them.

“Are you OK?” Clarke gasps, breathless from her sprint across the sand.

The brunette woman looks up from where she is helping Maya sit up. Deep green eyes meet blue, and for a moment, Clarke feels like she is surrounded by green once more, just like when she woke up moments ago in the forest surrounded by green.

“I believe that we are all fine, or as fine as anyone can be after a plane crash.” The brunette gives Clarke the hint of a smile, and Clarke can’t help but smile in return.

Forcing herself to wrench her gaze away from the brunette, she turns to the man. “And you?” When he gives her a thumb up, she sighs. “Stay with her, understand?”

Through his pants, Murphy manages to choke out, “Whatever you say, Princess.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and heads back towards the wreckage, looking to provide aid to anyone else she can. When she hears footsteps behind her, she turns to glare at Murphy for leaving Maya, but her face softens when she sees that it’s the brunette woman. Clarke realizes that the woman is not dressed in a business suit, but an army dress uniform.

“I have some experience with triage, I thought I could provide some assistance?”

“Of course, that would be great.” Clarke tells her, and together the two return to the wreckage to help their fellow survivors.

* * *

 

            After everything has quieted down and there are no more critically injured patients to attend to, Clarke sneaks away to the biggest piece of the wreckage, the middle of the plane where they were all sitting. The front and back of the plane are both gone, leaving a hollow tube open on both sides filled with seats, luggage, and bodies. Clarke pauses for a moment, bracing herself against the side of the plane, taking a moment to feel the loss of all the people who had died today. Her inner thoughts are interrupted by the lifeguard who approaches her.

            Holding out a handful of pens, the man tells her, “I didn’t know which one would work best.”

            Clarke looks down at them and takes them, shoving them in her pocket. “They’re all good. Thank you.” She gives him a small smile, which he returns with a nod.

            Holding out his hand, he tells her, “I’m Bellamy.”

            Clarke shakes his hand briefly, exhaustion shooting through her. “Clarke.”

            The man looks like he wants to say more, but Clarke turns away from him and heads into the wreckage to search for supplies. At her obvious dismissal, he turns and walks away.

            Clarke makes her way towards the flight attendant’s cart, searching through the drawers for alcohol. She pockets the two bottles she finds, and then heads out of the wreckage to look in the checked luggage strewn across the beach. After searching several suitcases, she finds a sewing kit, which she pockets. Grabbing a shirt from the suitcase, she slowly jogs away from the survivors and into the woods.

            Clarke doesn’t go too far, just far enough away that she doesn’t have to hear the cries and yells of the wounded. Slowly, she unbuttons her shirt and carefully slips out of it, wincing as the blood soaked fabric is pulled away from the wound. Breathing hard at the pain, she sinks to her knees in the sand, steeling herself for what she is going to do. Lifting her left arm up, she uses her right arm to probe the gash on her side, wincing at the pain. She lets out a sharp breath of frustration when she realizes that she can’t reach her wound.

            Clarke sits for a moment, wondering what she is going to do, when, suddenly, the brunette from earlier emerges from amongst the foliage, visibly startling Clarke.

            “My apologies, it was not my intention to startle you.” The brunette gives her a small apologetic smile.

            Clarke waves a hand through the air. “It’s fine, I just didn’t hear you coming.” Realizing that she is shirtless in front of the woman, she blushes and crosses her arms over her chest.

            The brunette politely averts her eyes as she tells Clarke, “I just wanted to check on you. I saw you head in here and…” The woman rubs the back of her neck with one hand as she pivots around. “Well now that I know that you’re fine, I’m just going to go.”

            The brunette only makes it a few steps before Clarke calls out to her. “Wait!” The woman pauses, but doesn’t turn around. “How do you feel about needles?”

            The brunette turns around with a raised eyebrow aimed at Clarke and eyes that respectfully stay focused on her face and not her cleavage. Well, those green eyes glance down once, but so quickly that Clarke is almost sure she imagined it.

            Clarke lifts up her arm and turns her body, displaying the gash on her side. “I could use some help with this. I would do it myself, I’m a doctor, but I can’t reach it. Do you mind?”

            “I figured as much.” The woman tells her as she strides towards Clarke.

            “Figured what?” Clarke looks at her questioningly.

            “That you were a doctor. I mean, I hoped you were, seeing as how you set a woman’s leg half an hour ago.”

            Clarke looks at the woman with surprise, unsure if she is joking. When the woman smiles and winks at her, Clarke knows she is. “Here,” Clarke playfully huffs as she tosses one of the liquor bottles to the brunette, who catches it with ease.

            As the green-eyed brunette pours the liquor on her hands, Clarke threads the needle with the black string. She ties off the end and uses the scissors to snip the loose end off. As the brunette kneels down at her side, Clarke hands her the second bottle, lifting her arm up to fully expose her side. “That’s for the wound,” she tells the woman.

            Without any warning, Clarke feels intense pain burn through her side. She bends forward and grasps her thighs with her hands, shakily breathing through the pain. A soft, soothing touch rubbing small circles on her back makes her look up, and blue eyes meet green once more.

            “I know that hurt, but I have found that the anticipation is often more painful than the actual pain. Best to get it over with as soon as possible.”

            “Not like you gave me a choice anyways.” Clarke softens her harsh words with a small grin.

            The brunette rolls her eyes and lifts Clarke’s arm upright so that she can see the wound again. Deftly, she unhooks Clarke’s bra with one hand, causing Clarke to bring her arms down to cover herself in embarrassment.

            The green-eyed woman just takes Clarke’s left arm and lifts it up once again. “The end of the wound is under your bra.”

            “Oh…OK” Clarke blushes with embarrassment at her reaction and looks away, knowing that if she allowed herself to observe the pretty, focused brunette much longer, she would be unable to look away. When she places her hand on Clarke’s ribs to hold her still, Clarke flinches slightly at the gentle touch.

            Thinking that Clarke is nervous, the brunette tries to reassure her. “I have done this before, in a nonofficial manner, of course. My unit all learned basic first aid, and several times I found myself stitching up some of my men when a medic wasn’t around.”

            Clarke winces as the needle pierces her skin, but nods her head at her. “Well, you don’t seem afraid, and most people would have run for the hills if I asked them to stitch me up, so I figured so.” Clarke turns her head to smile at the woman as she turns her words back on her.

            However, she is too focused on making her stitches as clean and even as possible to see the teasing smile. She doesn’t want to hurt this kind woman any more than she has to, and she wants to leave as small a scar as possible on this beauty. “I never said I was not scared. Fear is always with us, whether we are afraid to go on a date or afraid to run into battle, it is still fear. But we cannot let fear dictate our actions. Learning to handle the small terrors can help you face the big ones, and vice versa. Every time that I ran into battle, I was afraid – afraid for my life, afraid for my men, afraid of not knowing what was to come. But I knew that I had to deal with it. So I let the fear in, let it take over, let it do its thing, but only for five seconds. And every time before I got in a Humvee for patrol or I stood outside a building ready with my team to go search it, I would count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And then it was gone.” As she finishes her story, she ties off the last stitch and cuts the string.

            Clarke turns around to fully look at the woman. “You do that for everything that scares you? Even ordinary things?”

            “Why do you think you were only here alone for 5 seconds?” The woman smiles at her, stands up, and walks away, leaving Clarke alone with her thoughts to get dressed.

* * *

            As the sun sets over the horizon, the survivors find themselves in various places. When Maya had calmed down and her contractions had stopped, Murphy had left to go smoke a cigarette and watch as the other survivors built a fire and shelter for the night. Maya had gone to stand near the water, allowing the waves to wash up along her feet, and nearby, a tall, skinny, black man named Thelonius and his son Wells were sitting on the shore, gazing out at the waves. A pretty young blonde woman named Harper was passing out food to the others, while Bellamy was using nearly all his battery trying to dial 9-1-1.

A tall, muscled, man with a shaved head was feeding the fire as a skinny young boy watched. “Hey, what’s your name?” The stronger man asks the younger, skinnier boy.

Nervous that this dangerous looking man is talking to him, the boy murmurs, “Jasper.”

“My name is Lincoln. Can you help with the fire? Just keep feeding it so that it stays big enough for a rescue party to see.”

“Uh… Sure. I can do that.” Jasper hesitantly tells him.

Lincoln nods at him before leaving to go help with the shelters.

Jasper adds another log to the fire and watches a man he had met earlier approach the fire to sit down. “Nathan, right?”

Nathan smiles at him and starts twirling the wedding ring on his left hand. “Yeah, but you can call me Miller.”

Sensing that Miller is not in the mood to talk, Jasper sits quietly by the fire, getting up every once in a while to throw a log or a stick on it. Using a sharpie that he had found on the beach, Jasper uses it to write “FATE” on the tape wrapped around his fingers, one letter for each finger. Other than that, he doesn’t move from his place by the fire, just stares into the flames. When the sun sets, Lincoln returns, sitting down next to him with a frustrated huff.

“You’d think they would have come by now.” Lincoln tells him.

“Who?” Jasper asks.

“Anyone.” Lincoln murmurs, a little forlornly.

As Jasper doesn’t have an answer for Lincoln, he just stares into the fire.

Lincoln, however, finds his gaze drawn near another fire several yards away, in front of which a beautiful young brunette woman sits painting her nails.

The brunette finishes putting the polish on her nails just as her brother sits down on the edge of her towel. He holds out a granola bar, which she refuses to take.

“I can’t eat that now, it would wreck my nails.”

“Octavia, you should eat, you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Bellamy, why don’t you eat it. My nails are drying.” She flashes a fake smile towards him.

Bellamy huffs as he tosses the granola bar at her feet and turns away to face the fire without another word.

After a few moments, a shy looking woman comes by holding several trays. “Hi guys, I’m Harper. I figured the meals would go bad, so we should probably eat them now. Do you want one?”

Before Bellamy can speak, Octavia pipes up. “Yes please. Thank you Harper.” Octavia takes it and immediately starts digging in, flashing a smirk at her brother. Bellamy rolls his eyes but takes his own tray, politely thanking Harper as well. After handing out meals to the other sitting around that fire, she walks over to the pregnant woman, who is sitting away from the fires on a piece of metal, staring out at the water.

“Hey, how are you? My name is Harper.”

“Maya.” Maya shyly tells her.

Harper takes a seat next to her and hands her a tray, then starts digging into her own. When Maya hesitates, surprised that this woman wants to eat with someone who is pregnant, alone, and very young to be having a baby, Harper gives her a gentle nudge with her elbow. “C’mon, you’re eating for two in there. You know what, here, take another.” Harper hands her another one with a smile.

Maya smiles back at the kind gesture, and starts eating her own dinner. When she has finished the first one and started on the second one, she sees Clarke and the brunette who had saved her walking towards her.

“Hey, Maya, right? How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, the contractions stopped, and I haven’t felt anything since then. Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course. I’m glad you’re better.” Clarke smiles at her, then turns to Harper. “I heard you’re the one to see about the food.”

Harper laughs softly and holds out two trays. “That would be right.”

“Thanks.” Clarke tells her as she and Lexa take their trays. As they turn to leave, Maya’s voice calls out to them.

“Wait, I wanted to thank you.”

Confused, Clarke turns around, but finds Maya directing her gaze towards her brunette companion, who is faintly blushing. “Oh, it was nothing. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

“You saved my life, that’s not nothing.”

Sensing that the brunette is still shy, Clarke smiles at Maya and tells her “Let me know if you need anything,” then turns and leads her companion away to sit by another fire. The two eat in silence, lost in their thoughts and gazing into the flames. When she finishes her meal, Clarke sighs from exhaustion. When she looks over at the brunette, she finds her holding a leaf that she had bent to look like an airplane.

Quietly, Clarke asks her, “Do you remember what happened? The plane crash? I blacked out in the turbulence and woke up in the middle of the jungle…”

The brunette nods and holds up the plane. “We must have been at an elevation of around 40,000 feet when it started. We hit an air pocket, and I remember falling for several seconds, so we must have dropped around 400 feet. The turbulence was… brutal, so say the least. We started descending rapidly…” She pauses, for a moment, going still and quiet as she stalls by sweeping a loose curl that had fallen out of her bun behind one of her tiny ears. “I heard the tail break off… But the wind through the cabin was too strong to look back. I’m not sure how high we were when the front of the plane broke off, but… We hit the ground at an angle, sliding and rolling. It’s a miracle any of us survived at all.” She throws the plane into the fire, and the leaf burns quickly.

“Do you think there are other survivors? From the tail or the front of the plane?”

Cold green eyes look up from the fire to meet blue. “Honestly… No. But if we can, we need to find the front section of the plane. Hopefully the cockpit is mostly intact, and we can find the transceiver to send out a signal to the rescue party.”

Clarke pauses, thinking, until she remembers something.“I saw some smoke, in the valley. If you go look for the cockpit, I want to come with you, in case there are survivors.”

The brunette stares at her, searching for what, Clarke doesn’t know. Slowly, she extends her hand to her. Clarke looks at it with confusion, but reaches her own out to shake hands with the brunette.

“Lexa.”

“What?” Clarke looks at her with confusion, lost in pools of green eyes.

“My name is Lexa.”

Clarke snaps out of it and smiles back at her. “Clarke.”

A shy smile forms on Lexa’s face. “Nice to meet you, Clarke.”

Clarke shivers at the way Lexa says her name. Their moment is broken, however, by a moan coming from a nearby tent. “Break time is over, I guess, time to go check on the patients.” Clarke sighs and stands up, holding out a hand to help Lexa up. Lexa refuses to take it, standing on her own.

“You shouldn’t aggravate your wound.” She gently chides Clarke, who blushes. Lexa gestures for Clarke to lead them to the tent they and other survivors had set up for the wounded.

Lexa follows Clarke as she rounds on all the patients. Fortunately, most of the injuries she had treated only need cleaning and stitches. There were a couple head injuries, sprains, and deep bruises that she would need to watch, but all in all most people had been lucky. The only two critical cases were the Latina woman named Raven who had a badly broken leg, and a large, bearded man with shrapnel in his stomach. Fortunately for him, Lexa had gotten to him and stopped the bleeding quickly.

Clarke uses a flashlight to check the edges of the wound, making sure there is no fresh bleeding. Blood still stains his bare chest, but for now, he appears stable and resting in an unconscious state. Clarke is surprised when Lexa speaks up, because she hadn’t said a word for the past half hour they had been in the tent.

“Do you think he will live?”

Clarke looks up at her and despite the stoic expression on Lexa’s face, she senses that something is different about this man. “Do you know him?”

Lexa nods once. “He’s my second in command. His name is Gustus.”

Shocked, Clarke can’t speak for a moment. She wants to comfort Lexa, but doesn’t think that empty words would be well received. “I don’t know.”

Lexa looks away for a moment, and then kneels down next to his side, taking his hand in hers. Her gaze doesn’t leave his face as she tells Clarke, “You should go get some rest, I will stay with him for tonight.”

“OK. I will be in the tent next door. Come get me if something changes, or you need a break.” Clarke waits for a response, but all she gets is a nod. She stands up, groaning at the exhaustion she feels, and leaves Lexa alone with Gustus.

* * *

           _Clarke was lucky to get a seat on the plane in a row that was completely empty except for her. Although she hadn’t taken advantage of the extra space yet, she knew this afternoon she would be stretching out on her three seats to take a nap. For now, she just sits and stares at the white, fluffy clouds out the window, watching as they fly by. Her thoughts are interrupted by the flight attendant._

_“So, how’s the drink?” The blonde asks Clarke with a flirty smile._

_Clarke immediately turns on the charm. “It was great, thank you, Niylah.” Clarke purrs the woman’s name, eliciting a blush on the blonde beauty’s cheeks._

_Niylah bites her lip as she hesitantly asks Clarke, “So, would you like another? Maybe this time not at 40,000 feet in the air and with some company?”_

_Clarke licks her lips and lowers her voice to a husky whisper. “You know what, I would love that, but I’m still thirsty right now.”_

_Niylah’s eyes go wide but then she smiles and takes out a napkin, writing something on it before she hands it to Clarke along with a package of peanuts. With a wink, she turns and heads towards the back of the plane, pushing the drink cart._

_When Clarke looks down at the napkin, she finds that Niylah had written ‘back right bathroom, 5 minutes’ on it. Pleased with herself, Clarke allows a smug smile to form on her face. She lifts up her tray table and locks it into place so that she has room to stand up, then walks out into the aisle. She is almost pushed back into the aisle seat as a tall, skinny, black haired young man shoves past her, ignoring the yells of several flight attendants behind him._

_Clarke’s eyes meet the exasperated face of a handsome man sitting in the aisle seat next to her. “I guess he really had to go.” He chuckles, smiling at Clarke._

_Clarke smiles and moves out of the way of the three flight attendants rushing down the aisle after the man. The plane shakes with some mild turbulence, so Clarke sits down in the aisle seat and buckles up, knowing that her meeting with Niylah will have to be postponed._

_The pilot comes over the intercom, “This is your captain speaking. We have turned on the fasten seatbelt sign, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”_

_When Clarke looks around, she sees the panicked look on the face of the man next to her. “It’s normal. Everything is fine.” She tells him in a comforting voice._

_He looks at her with a nervous smile. “I know, I just, never really liked flying. My husband keeps telling me that the odds of us crashing are very low, but I still get nervous. Usually, he can find some way to distract me throughout the flight, but he went to the bathroom.”_

_Clarke smiles reassuringly and reaches over to briefly squeeze his hand. “Well, my name is Clarke, and I will keep you company until he gets back, OK?”_

_The man gives Clarke a weak smile. “Nathan.”_

_The turbulence hits again, this time stronger, and Clarke tries to reassure him again. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be over soon.”_

_Suddenly, the turbulence increases to a much stronger level, to the point where luggage starts falling out of the overhead compartments and passengers start screaming. Alarms start blaring and the plane continues to shake. Bright yellow oxygen masks fall from above their heads, which Clarke quickly grabs and deftly fits over her nose. She looks over to see Nathan desperately holding the mask to his face in terror. She wants to reach over to slide the elastic band behind his head, but the turbulence only increases. Fear starts to take over Clarke’s body, and all she can do is tightly grip the armrests and hope for the best._

* * *

**Day 1**

            The next morning, Clarke finds Lexa still at Gustus’ side, but now she is wearing heavy boots, camouflage cargo pants, and a grey Army T-shirt. Her hair has been neatly braided back from her face, and a backpack sits by her side.

            “Are you sure that you still want to go? I saw the smoke, I can find the cockpit, if you want to stay here with Gustus.”

            Lexa shakes her head and stands up, brushing sand off her pants. “Of course not, I’m coming. I can’t let our only doctor wander around in a jungle containing God knows what, alone and unarmed.”

            Clarke smiles tentatively at Lexa. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go.” Clarke walks out of the tent, but is stopped by Lexa’s hand on her wrist.

            “Were you able to find your luggage?”

            Clarke’s brows wrinkle in confusion. “No, why do you ask?”

            Lexa sighs and looks down at Clarke’s converse. “If you’re going hiking through the woods, you’re going to need better shoes.”

            Clarke gives Lexa a look as if it to say, ‘where am I going to get a pair of shoes on an island.’ Lexa’s face turns grim, and she nods her head in the direction of the wreckage, where bodies are still lying in the sand. Clarke’s face turns white, and at her look, Lexa puts a hand on her shoulder. “If you tell me your size, I can get you some.”

            Clarke shakes her head at her. “No, I can do it, I… I will meet you back here in 10 minutes.”

            Lexa nods, and leaves to go look through their meager supplies for water bottles and food to pack in her bag for the trip.

            Clarke watches her leave, postponing what she knows she has to do, but when Lexa disappears amongst the wreckage and the other survivors, she turns to head towards the bodies. She looks around, and when she spots a nice pair of hiking boots on a woman who is lying face down in the sand, Clarke goes over to her and gently slides one off her foot. She checks the size and seeing that it should fit, she unties her own shoes, slips them off, and rolls up her jeans to slip the new ones on. She sits there for a moment, offering up a silent ‘thank you’ to this poor woman who hadn’t survived, then pulls herself together and walks back towards the other survivors, looking for Lexa.

            When Clarke sees Lexa in a circle of other survivors, she walks over to them to see what they are talking about. She sees Harper, but doesn’t know who the rest of the people are. She decides to stand next to Lexa and listen in on what they are saying, but the conversation is at a standstill when she approaches.

            Lexa takes it upon herself to assimilate Clarke into the group. “Clarke, this is Thelonius, his son Wells, Jasper, Bellamy and his sister Octavia, and another one of my unit’s members Lincoln. We were just-”

Upon seeing Wells and Thelonius, Clarke interrupts Lexa and runs into Wells’ open arms. “Oh my goodness, Wells Jaha? What are you doing on this flight? I can’t believe it, I haven’t seen you in years!”

Wells laughs as he picks her up and swings her around. “You haven’t seen me in years? Whose fault is that little miss busy with medical school?”

Clarke laughs as he sets her down and playfully pushes out of his arms so that she can give Thelonius a much tamer hug. “What were you doing in Sydney?”

Thelonius gives her a warm, fatherly smile as he beams down at her. “I took Wells on a father-son vacation there to celebrate his election as Arkadia’s mayor.”

Clarke turns her smile onto Wells. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you!”

Wells returns the smile but rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, the vacation didn’t end as planned…”

Clarke’s smile falls as she remembers where they are and what had happened yesterday.

Thelonius puts a comforting hand on Clarke’s shoulder as he brings her into the group’s previous conversation. “We were just talking about what we should do with the dead. What is your opinion on the matter?”

            Still not fully recovered from her most recent brush with the dead, all Clarke can do is mutter, “The dead?”

            Harper quickly explains. “I was just telling them that rescue isn’t here yet, and it’s disrespectful to leave people just lying in the sand. Not to mention the ones still in what’s left of the plane…”

            “Rescue will be here soon, they can deal with it when they get here.” The young brunette, Octavia, Clarke believes, pipes up as she starts rubbing sunscreen on her arms and face.

            Wells rolls his eyes at the young woman’s complete disregard for the situation. “I think we need to start burying them today. We can’t just leave them sitting in the sun.”

            As other people start chiming in their opinions, Clarke looks to Lincoln and Lexa, who are standing quietly next to her. “Lexa? What do you guys think?”

            Lexa quietly but authoritatively growls “Hey!” loud enough to stop the group’s bickering. When everyone quiets and looks at her, she starts to speak. “Clarke and I are going to look for the cockpit. If there are any survivors, we will bring them back here, and hopefully we can find the transceiver to send out a signal to the rescue party.”

            “I can come with you, help carry any survivors back.” Bellamy pipes up.

            Clarke does not want to spend all day hiking in the jungle fending of Bellamy’s advances, but she knows that he wants to be part of the leadership. “No, you and Lincoln are the only ones with medical experience. I need you to stay and keep an eye on the wounded.”

            Bellamy’s face falls, but Clarke takes his shoulder and pulls him out of the group slightly to give him instructions. “Raven needs to keep her leg still. It’s splinted, but she still shouldn’t be moving, and she can’t put any weight on it at all. If Gustus wakes up, try to keep him calm and get him to drink some water, but don’t take out the shrapnel, no matter what. Understand?”

            Bellamy nods his head, still a little put out that he’s not coming with them. “Yeah, I can do that.”

            While Clarke talks to Bellamy, Lincoln half listens to Clarke’s instructions while also listening to Lexa. “Hopefully rescue will get here soon, but we can’t leave the bodies out in the sun any longer than today. Lincoln, I need you to organize a group of people to strip the wreckage for everything and anything useful. Then, move all the bodies into the fuselage of the plane. They should be fine there for a few days. When rescue comes, they will want to bring the bodies back to their loved ones.”

            “Well, what does Clarke think? She’s the doctor, shouldn’t she have some input?” Wells glares distrustfully toward Lexa.

            Hearing her name, Clarke jumps back into the conversation, which she had been half listening to while speaking to Bellamy. “I agree with Lexa. The bodies will smell, especially in this heat, but they won’t start massively decomposing for another few days. The fuselage is a good place to contain the smell and the bacteria. However, burying them after a few days in the sun will be…” Clarke hesitates. She had seen a corpse left outside for four days when she had assisted a medical examiner on a case, and she shudders as she remembers it. Even covered head to toe in a gown, gloves, and mask, she had still felt the need to shower multiple times when she returned home afterwards. “Let’s just say it will be messy.”

            That’s when Lincoln catches on to Lexa’s line of thought. “We aren’t going to bury them, are we _Heda_?”

            “No. Despite what you all may believe, digging a proper grave is extremely difficult, especially without the proper tools. Digging a mass grave… We can’t do it. If rescue hasn’t arrived in a few days, we will burn the bodies.” Knowing that her words will no doubt just give rise to more arguing and that Lincoln can handle the politics for now, Lexa turns and strides towards the jungle, clearly ready to go. Clarke chases after her, catching up with her after a few strides.

            Clarke gently bumps Lexa’s arm with her own, making her presence known. “What did Lincoln call you? Heda? What does that mean?”

            “Hey! Wait up! I will come with you!” Lexa and Clarke stop and turn as Jasper comes running up to them.

            Lexa lifts her eyebrows at the skinny boy who looks more like a rock star than a hiker in his dark jeans, band T-shirt, and outrageous goggles on his head. “Can you keep up?”

            Jasper adopts a swagger. “Of course. The real question is, can you keep up with me?” Jasper finishes his question with an exaggerated wink and a flirty smirk.

            Lexa fiercely stares at him without uttering a word. The smile disappears from Jasper’s face, and he seems to shrink into himself as she continues to glare at him. “Firstly, that was the worst attempt at flirting I have ever seen. Secondly, I’m very, very gay.” Jasper’s eyes bulge and his mouth drops, and Clarke starts giggling at Lexa’s smack down. Lexa turns to Clarke with a raised eyebrow and a stony expression on her face. Clarke stops giggling but can’t contain her smile as holds up her hands in defense. Lexa just rolls her eyes and turns her back on them; tossing over her shoulder, “Don’t hold us up.”

            Clarke turns to Jasper with a smile and playfully punches him in the arm. “I don’t blame you for trying, but man that was pitiful.” At Clarke’s words, Lexa looks over her shoulder at her, which Clarke returns with a wink. Quickly, Lexa turns her head forward, but Clarke can still see the red tips of her ears. Seconds later, Jasper crashes through the jungle after them, cracking sticks and sweeping aside branches in his haste to catch up to them. Lexa sighs; this is going to be a long hike. 

* * *

            Two hours later, Lexa, Clarke, and Jasper find themselves several miles inland, hiking through the valley. Lexa glances back and sees a sweaty, pink-cheeked Clarke several feet behind her and a gasping Jasper several yards behind Clarke. For moment, Lexa can only stare at Clarke’s cleavage covered only by her small tank top because she had taken off her button down and tied it around her waist. Hoping that she can pass off the faint pink tinge to her cheeks as exertion, Lexa stops and takes off her backpack, pulling out two water bottles. She takes slow sips of one, and holds out the second one to Clarke, as she pauses to stare at the view. From here, the jungle, beach, and ocean create quite the picturesque view, to those who are unaware of the hell that had happened on the beach yesterday.

            Clarke catches up to Lexa and takes the water bottle, trying to drink it slowly like Lexa had, but ultimately failing. Sure, she worked out, when she had time to, but she was in nowhere near as good a shape as Lexa, and it was hot and humid in the sun. It’s not her fault that she was always busy at the hospital, and when she did have days off, she prioritized sleep, grocery shopping, and laundry over exhausting herself further.

            When Jasper catches up to the two women he collapses, breathing hard. He falls back onto the ground, stretching out his arms and legs, trying to catch his breath. When he feels a tap on his shoulder, he opens his eyes to see Lexa holding a water bottle out to him, which he sits up to greedily start drinking from. Clarke lets out a soft laugh at how much he spills on himself in his haste to drink it, but just shoots her the finger and keeps drinking.

            After catching her breath, Clarke catches sight of Jasper’s T-shirt. “Wait, you know Dropship? I love them!”

            “Know Dropship? I AM Dropship. I’m in the band, I play bass.”

            “No way! That’s awesome! You guys used to be great; they played you in every club and bar when I was in college. I must have listened to that song thousands of times, what was it called?”

            “Trip to the Ground! I helped write that song. And _used to be_ great? We still are great. We were all set to start our comeback tour, but now…”

            Noticing his melancholy mood, Clarke puts a hand on his shoulder. “Well, you’re probably selling hundreds of records now, and when we get rescued, your comeback tour will be bigger than ever. I bet you could even write some kick ass songs here. Maybe your next single should be called ‘Planecrash’?”

            Jasper laughs, and starts beat boxing and rapping, making Clarke laugh. Lexa ruins their party, however, when she returns with a walking stick. “We need to keep moving, guys. We still have a lot of ground to cover if we want to get back to the beach before nightfall.”

            Clarke sighs and accepts the hand up from Lexa. “All right.” The trio resumes their trek through the woods as dark storm clouds start rolling in from over the mountain.

            Twenty minutes later, the clouds have blocked out the sun so much that it almost seems like it is twilight. Suddenly, with no build-up, a torrential downpour starts, drenching the three hikers within seconds. Clarke puts her button up shirt back on as goose bumps erupt on her arms despite the warm temperatures. The rain doesn’t slow Lexa at all, but Jasper tries to hike his zip up sweatshirt over his head and block out some of the rain. When he realizes that it is futile, he gives up and hurries to catch up to Clarke and Lexa.

            “Is this weather normal? Day turning to night? Sudden monsoons?” Jasper nervously asks.

            “Yes, Jasper, we are in a tropical climate.” Lexa huffs at him over her shoulder.

            The group goes silent as they miserably trek through the rain. They only walk another 500 yards until they stumble upon the front half of the plane.

            The white metal tube is slanted upwards, sticking out of the ground at a 45 degree angle, like an unnatural rock. Burn marks scorch the side and cracks run through the metal. The group pauses in awe, taking in the sight of something so unnatural smack in the middle of the jungle.

            Without any fanfare, Lexa walks towards the plane, stepping over and around fallen trees, airplane wreckage, and luggage. Clarke and Jasper follow closely behind, both looking around for any survivors. When the group enters the plane, they are offered a brief reprieve from the rain.

            “Hello? Is anybody here?” Clarke calls out, hoping for survivors.

            When nobody answers, Lexa starts walking up the aisle, using the seats to help pull herself up. She stops to check for a pulse for everyone on her left, and Clarke follows, checking everyone on her right. Jasper follows behind, working hard not to touch any bodies.

            When they make it to the front of first class, the seats are empty, and the steep incline is putting a strain on their muscles. Jasper slips, and grabs onto the first thing he can reach, which happens to be Clarke’s foot. Clarke is yanked backwards with a yelp, alerting Lexa to her predicament. Lexa turns around just in time to see Clarke’s fingers slip from her grip on the seat. Grabbing the metal leg of the seat with hand, she lunges her other hand towards Clarke, just managing to grab onto Clarke’s hand. Quickly, Clarke brings her other hand up to grab onto Lexa’s hand, locking them together. Lexa grunts as she now fully feels the weight of three people, but holds tight.

            “Jasper, grab onto something.” Lexa grunts at him.

            Jasper flails around for a few seconds, and the cords of Lexa’s neck strain, but she holds on. When Jasper finally grabs onto a seat and lets go, Lexa takes a deep breath. Instead of letting go of Clarke Lexa pulls her up towards her, and then puts her hand on Clarke’s ass to push her ahead of her, past the seats and up into the flight attendant’s area right behind the cockpit. Lexa looks back, and seeing that Jasper is safely in a seat, she grabs a fire extinguisher and pulls herself up to the door to the cockpit, right next to Clarke.

            Through her harsh pants, Clarke gasps out, “Usually, I don’t let people grab my ass until after a first date.”

            Lexa flashes Clarke a cocky smile through her own harsh breaths. “Call it my reward for saving you from clumsy over there.” Lexa nods her head in Jasper’s direction, and Clarke rolls her eyes and gently slaps Lexa’s arm. When Lexa catches her breath a few seconds later, she takes the fire extinguisher and starts slamming it down onto the handle of the cockpit, trying to break it open.

            After several hits, the door gives, and slams open as a body falls out, almost hitting them as it goes rushing past them and slams into the ground below. Clarke lets out a shriek and pulls Lexa back against her.

            Breathing hard from the surprise and the effort of getting the door open, Lexa turns her head and pants out, “Are you OK, Clarke?”

            Clarke nods. “Yeah. You good?”

            Lexa nods, and pulls herself up into the cockpit, holding out her hand to help Clarke once she’s inside.

            “I’m fine too, you know! I’m just gonna hang out here!” Jasper calls out to them from below

            Neither Clarke nor Lexa acknowledge Jasper’s comment, both too busy. Lexa starts looking in cabinets for the transceiver, and Clarke goes to check the remaining pilot’s pulse.

            “He’s alive!” Clarke joyfully shouts, which causes Lexa to move up to see the man. His face is covered in bruises, and he has a nasty laceration on his forehead, but there don’t appear to be any other major injuries. Lexa pulls her hand back, and before Clarke can stop her, she slaps the pilot, who jolts to the side.

            “What the fuck, Lexa?” Clarke angrily yells at her.

            Lexa defends herself calmly. “Clarke, he will know where the transceiver is, and how to work it. He can’t tell us any of this while he’s unconscious.”

            Clarke glares at her. “That doesn’t mean you can slap him! He’s suffered a head wound and been in a plane crash, inflicting more bodily harm isn’t going to help!”

            Lexa doesn’t answer, just inclines her head towards the man, who is groaning as he reaches up to hold his head. Seconds later, he opens his eyes.

            Clarke shoots Lexa one more angry glare before turning her attention to the pilot. “Sir, how do you feel? My name is Clarke. I’m a doctor. Here let me get you something to drink.”

            Clarke looks at Lexa, who pulls a water bottle out of her pack and hands it to Clarke. She holds it up to the pilot’s mouth, and he takes a sip, coughs, and then sips some more.

            “How many survived?” He chokes out.

            “At least 48.” Lexa answers before Clarke. “We landed on the beach, and came here to get the transceiver. Do you know where it is?”

            The man turns his head but then groans. “My head…”

            Clarke gently removes his hand and peers into his eyes, examining his pupils and the wound on his head. “You most likely have a concussion. Do you have pain anywhere else?’

            The pilot moves his arms and legs, and then tells Clarke, “No, I think I’m OK. How long as it been? Since the crash?”

            “Twenty hours and 17 minutes.” Lexa answers. “We really need that transceiver…”

            Clarke glares at Lexa for rushing the man, but he answers anyways, pointing to a cabinet. “It’s in that cabinet over there.” When Lexa finds it, she hands it to him, and he starts pressing buttons and twirling the knobs. When he gets nothing, he looks up at them, with a hint of fear in his eyes. “Six hours into the flight, the radio stopped working. We were flying through a storm; lightning must have hit us or something. We had no radar, no contact with anyone. We turned back, hoping to land in Fiji. When the turbulence hit…” He trails off, hands stilling. “We were a thousand miles off course.” The pilot looks up, making eye contact with a terrified Clarke and a stoic Lexa. “They’re looking for us, but in the wrong place.”

            Clarke doesn’t know what to say. “I… I’m going to check on Jasper.” Turning away quickly, she makes her way down to the door of the cockpit.

            Behind her, the pilot pleads with Lexa. “It’s not my fault, the storm… We _have_ to get this transceiver working. Otherwise, I don’t know-”

            “Stop.” Lexa growls at the pilot as she takes the transceiver from his hands and starts twirling the knobs. Lexa glances down, and seeing that Clarke is busy talking to Jasper, she quietly tells him, “There is no need to frighten them further.” Lexa has found herself in many life or death situations before, but she knows that Clarke has not. Fully articulating the idea that it may be some time before they get off this island would do nothing but lower everyone’s morale, which is something that they can’t afford.

            While Lexa was fiddling with the transceiver, Clarke was looking for Jasper. When she didn’t see him, she softly called out to him. Suddenly, the bathroom door slams open next to her, and Clarke jolts back in surprise, almost losing her grip.

            Frowning at him in confusion, Clarke asks him, “What were you doing in the bathroom?”

            “I was… ummm… getting sick. The, uh, bodies, freak me out.”

            Clarke’s face softens, but before she can answer, an inhuman roar sounds nearby. A jolt of fear shoots through Clarke, and she looks up towards Lexa.

            Lexa shoves the transceiver in her backpack and slips it on, holding out her hand to pull Clarke back up into the cockpit and into her body. Lexa wraps her arms around Clarke’s middle and gives Clarke a squeeze, maneuvering her over her legs and into the corner. She shields her with her own body and pulls a knife from her boot. “Everyone, be quiet.” She whispers authoritatively, and everyone obeys, the only sound their harsh breathing.

            The cockpit shakes as something lands hard on it, then darkens as a black form leans over the window. The pilot tries to move out of his seat but a large furry arm reaches inside and yanks him out. The pilot yells, then blood splatters across the window.

            Immediately, Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand and pushes her down. “Go, we need to _go_.” She whispers harshly. Frozen in fear, Clarke and Jasper can only gape at Lexa with wide eyes. The plane shakes again, and the next second they are all free falling as the plane falls, landing in a horizontal position. Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand and pulls her up, running down the aisle of the plane. Clarke grabs Jasper’s hand as they sprint past him, and together they emerge from the plane and out into the pouring rain. Lexa doesn’t even pause before she starts sprinting into the jungle, pulling Clarke behind her and urging her to go faster.

            A roar sounds behind them, and Lexa runs faster, pulling Clarke harder even though Clarke is already running as fast as she can. Lexa leads them through the forest in the direction of the beach, dodging trees and rocks, but she knows that they won’t be able to outrun this thing if it is chasing them. They need something to throw the beast off their scent. Over her loud breathing, Lexa thinks she hears running water, so she takes a hard left in that direction.

When Lexa sees a fast moving stream, she pulls up at the ditch and lets go of Clarke’s hand. Lexa jumps down and holds out her hands to help Clarke jump down too. “Go! Run upstream for 50 feet then out the other side. Don’t stop!”

Clarke listens to Lexa, using her fear to fuel her and taking off as fast as she can in the slippery water. When she hears a cry of pain seconds later, however, she turns around to see Lexa on her back in the water with Jasper on top of her. “Lexa!” Clarke yells and runs back, grabbing Jasper’s arm and pulling him up. “Run!” She yells at him, and his fear filled eyes indicate that he has no problem taking off and leaving the two of them.

Clarke reaches out to pull Lexa up and she cries out in pain, but Clarke doesn’t hesitate and takes off running upstream, her hand still locked with Lexa’s. Jasper scrambles up the side of the ditch, and Clarke lets go of Lexa’s hand to follow him up the muddy incline. A roar sounds nearby, and she turns around to see Lexa still in the ditch drawing her knife with her right hand as her left hangs uselessly by her side.

Clarke lies on the ground and holds out her hand to Lexa. “Lexa! Let me help you up!” Clarke whisper yells to the brunette.

“Leave me, Clarke. Save yourself!” Lexa hisses back at her.

“I’m not leaving you!”

Lexa turns around to yell at Clarke, but upon seeing the stubborn look in her eyes, she puts the knife between her teeth and grabs Clarke’s hands, using her strong legs and Clarke’s assistance to pull herself up. They scramble to their feet and take off running. They are both covered in mud and rain blurs their vision, but they don’t slow down until loud thumps sound behind them. Clarke looks at Lexa with fear and Lexa slides her backpack off, tossing it into the pushes.

Lexa runs harder, pushing through her pain to her and Clarke’s limit. When she spots a clearing, she yanks Clarke to the left, pulling her towards a hollow tree on the edge of it. Lexa shoves Clarke inside first then climbs in after her, pushing her in as far as she can go. Lexa’s feet are only a few feet inside the log, however, so ignoring the pain in her left shoulder, she wriggles her way up next to Clarke, molding her body to Clarke’s back. Lexa takes the knife out of her teeth with her right hand and sticks it in the wood right above their heads, then wraps her right arm around Clarke’s waist, pulling her in tighter to her body so they can tuck their legs upwards almost in the fetal position with Lexa’s body spooned around Clarke’s.

“You should have left me. Now two will die here instead of one.” Lexa angrily grunts at Clarke through her harsh breathing.

Clarke is breathing too hard to retort, but she stiffens in indignation. Before she can give Lexa a piece of her mind, Lexa whispers “Shhhhh, look” in her ear. Clarke looks out the tiny hole near their faces and what she sees makes her breathing speed back up again. A large gorilla is now in the clearing, mouth dark with blood as it sniffs around, clearly looking for them. Clarke starts trembling in fear and whimpers. The gorilla turns its head towards them, and Clarke starts crying, but before any noises from her sobs can emerge from her mouth, Lexa’s hand is clamped over her mouth.

Lexa moves her mouth closer to Clarke’s ear and whispers so quietly that Clarke thinks she is imagining it. “One...” Clarke freezes in confusion. “Two…” Remembering Lexa’s story from before, she swallows hard, choking back her next sob, despite the fact that the gorilla is getting closer. “Three…” Clarke blinks the tears from her eyes, watching as the gorilla gets closer and closer. “Four…” Clarke forces her body to relax. “Five…” Lexa slowly removes her hand from Clarke’s mouth, and Clarke controls her breathing, slow and steady. Lexa quietly pulls the knife from the wood in preparation to use it, although there is not much she can do with a knife against a gorilla. The gorilla starts sniffing around the base of the log for several minutes, and Clarke doesn’t breath in fear that it will hear her.

A distant roar sounds, and the gorilla immediately turns and runs into the forest, back the way it came. Clarke gasps for breath, but doesn’t make any movements towards leaving the relative safety of the log. Several long moments later, Lexa unfolds herself from around Clarke, quietly murmuring, “I think it’s gone. We should go, before it comes back.”

Clarke finds herself shivering, whether from the fact that her entire body is soaked or that the adrenaline is currently leaving her body. She takes a minute longer to lie in the log, still pressed against Lexa’s comforting warmth, before she starts wriggling her way down.

She emerges from the log into sunlight, rain gone. She turns back when she hears a groan and peers into the log to find Lexa on her stomach awkwardly shuffling her way down. When Lexa slides out onto her knees, Clarke helps her turn over to so she is sitting and leaning against the log. Clarke starts prodding Lexa’s shoulder, and Lexa swats Clarke’s hands away, grumbling.

“It’s dislocated. I need to pop it back in, Lexa.”

Lexa sighs and relaxes her body. Before she can even grit her teeth, she is gasping as Clarke deftly fixes her shoulder.

Clarke smiles cheekily down at Lexa. “Someone told me it hurts less if you don’t see it coming.”

Lexa mock glares and huffs back up at her. “Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, _Clarke_.” Clarke shivers once again at the way Lexa says her name. Quickly, Lexa pops up to her feet and wraps her free arm around Clarke’s shoulders, rubbing up and down to create some friction. “We should get moving, it will help warm you up.”

“Wait, first I need to make a sling for your arm.” Clarke begins unbuttoning her shirt and slips out of it.

Busy folding her shirt, Clarke misses the way Lexa’s eyes widen at the sight of her chest in a thin, wet tank top, nipples hard and poking out. Lexa quickly pulls her gaze away when Clarke looks up at her, draping shirt over her neck. Gently, she bends Lexa’s arm and folds it to her chest. Using the main part of the shirt to provide vertical support to Lexa’s arm and the sleeve to restrain it close to her body, Clarke grins in triumph at her makeshift sling.

“Thank you.” Lexa whispers, gazing reverently at Clarke and biting her lip.

“You’re welcome.” Clarke whispers back, drifting closer to Lexa as she gazes into vibrant green orbs.

The moment is broken, however, by the frantic calls of Jasper. “Clarke! Lexa! Where are you guys?”

Clarke takes a step back and smiles at Lexa. “We should probably go get him, before he attracts those _things_ back here.”

Lexa sends Clarke a sly grin. “We could just leave him here.”

Clarke huffs and gently pushes Lexa as she walks past her. “Let’s go, _Heda_.” Lexa shivers at Clarke’s use of her Army nickname. Turning around to walk backwards, Clarke smiles teasingly at her. “You never told me what it means. Is it another language? A nickname? Something embarrassing, perhaps?”

Lexa rolls her eyes and catches up to Clarke, grabbing her elbow right before she can trip over a tree root and turning her back around to walk forwards towards Jasper’s desperate cries. “It’s a language that my squad and I made up. We call it _Trigedasleng_ , mostly because it’s basically English slang, and we made it up when we were on a long mission in the forest with lots of downtime. It prevents the enemy from knowing what we are talking about.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.” Clarke smirks at Lexa.

“I was the leader of the squad. Technically, I was only a captain, but any naming system we came up with for the ranks was still too obvious. So, Lincoln starting calling me _Heda_ , and it stuck. It means Commander, because I’m the leader of the squad, and… Yeah…” Lexa trails off, blushing bright red.

Warmth pools in Clarke’s belly as she imagines that leading the squad is probably not all that Lexa has done to earn that nickname. Before her fantasy can progress, Lexa calls out to Jasper, and he bursts from the bushes, breathing hard.

“Thank God I found you guys, where did you go? I was running, and I turned around and you guys were there one second and gone the next!”

“Well now that we found each other again, let’s go back. We need to get my backpack, the transceiver is in it.” Expecting no arguments, Lexa turns around, and Clarke follows her without question.

“What?” Jasper yells. “You want to go back where that thing is? The one that killed the pilot? We can’t go back there!”

Lexa doesn’t stop, and Clarke only coldly growls over shoulder, “Then don’t come.”

Realizing that they are going to leave him with no problem, Jasper hurries after them, following them as they retrace their steps. Despite her injured arm, Lexa’s long strides bring her to the front of the group, leaving Clarke in the middle and Jasper in the back.

Not wanting to be alone, Jasper speeds up to walk alongside Clarke. “When we were back at the river, you yelled ‘Lexa.’ I was there too, you know. Jasper, remember?”

Clarke doesn’t answer but instead freezes when she sees Lexa stopped in front of her. Clarke watches as she bends down, picking something up from the mud. She turns around, showing it to Clarke. Clarke walks up and takes the silver pin from her hand.

“It’s the pilot’s wings. Where’s the pilot?”

Lexa shrugs her good shoulder and turns around to bend down and examine the muddy area where she had found the wings. Over Lexa’s shoulder, Clarke catches sight of something reflecting in the pool of water. Turning her gaze up, she gasps in shock at what she sees.

Hearing Clarke’s startled exclamation, Lexa is on her feet instantly, knife drawn, looking for danger. When she sees the direction of Clarke’s gaze, she looks up, mouth hanging open in surprise.

Jasper looks up to where Clarke and Lexa have directed their gaze and sees the gruesome sight of the pilot, draped across the tree limbs, soaked in blood with one arm missing and limbs bent in the wrong direction. “Guys, how does something like that happen?”

Clarke redirects her gaze to Lexa, blue meeting green. “Where the fuck are we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m in the middle of another fic and I'm going to finish that, but I was inspired, so strike while the iron’s hot, right? Anyways, if people like it, then I will continue it! And if people overwhelmingly want to see the strange science fiction events that happened on Lost, I would be open to writing them! Just send me a comment or toss a kudos so I know how you feel about it :)


	2. Pilot: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pilot is a person who controls the flight of an aircraft by operating its directional flight controls. Flight engineers and navigators are considered aviators, but they are not pilots because they do not command a flight or aircraft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So these chapters take me a really long time to write, so unless there are unusual circumstances, it's going to probably take me at least a week to write them.

**Day 1**

After seeing the destroyed pilot’s body, Clarke stuck as close to Lexa as possible, walking so close next to her that their arms brushed every few steps. If there was anyone who could keep them safe in the jungle, it was her, so Clarke kept pace as Lexa strode through the jungle back to where she had tossed her pack in the woods. Even Jasper kept up, walking close behind them as well.

            When Lexa stopped to rustle in some bushes, looking for her backpack, Clarke and Jasper gravitated closer together, looking around warily. Both are still clearly on edge from the day’s events and are seeking whatever comfort they can.

            Lexa sighs when she takes out the transceiver, seeing that it has gotten wet and the screen is cracked from her fall into the river. Knowing that they need to put as much space in between them and the gorillas, she buckles her backpack and slides it over her uninjured shoulder. “We should go.”

            Clarke and Jasper nod in agreement, and the trio sets off into the jungle, back towards the beach. When Clarke sees the transceiver in Lexa’s hand, she asks, “Did you try it?”

            Lexa shakes her head. “It’s not working.”

            “Well are you going to try again?” A hint of desperation creeps into Jaspers voice.

            Lexa holds it up to show him the cracked screen. “It seems that I was not the only thing that broke your fall into the river.”

“Those things were chasing us!”

            “ _Pauna_.” Lexa tells him, still walking forward.

            “What?” Jasper asks, staring at Lexa’s back.

            “It was a gorilla. They usually aren’t that aggressive, though.”

            “Whatever, but in case you don’t remember, before the pilot was _ripped_ from the cockpit by that _thing_ , he said no one would be able to find us if we don’t get it working.”

            Calmly, Lexa says, “I am aware,” and continues walking through the woods, unfazed.

            Seeing Jasper’s distressed look, Clarke puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be fine. They’re going to find us, it may just take a little longer than we expected. It’s not your fault, OK?”

Jasper sighs, looking down. “It seems like my only contribution to this trip has been to eliminate any chance of being rescued.”

Clarke playfully bumps his shoulder and smiles at Jasper when he looks up at her. “I’m glad you came. Commander Hardass over there could lighten up. Accidents happen.” Clarke makes sure that her last words are loud enough for Lexa to hear, but Lexa makes no move to show that she has heard them.

* * *

 

_Jasper can barely sit still, even though he’s only been on the plane for a few hours. Luckily, no one is sitting next to him so he’s not bothering them with his constant shifting around, but people are starting to shoot dirty looks at him for the constant tapping he is drumming on the armrest._

_Seeing his anxiety, one of the flight attendants puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Is everything OK, sir?”_

_Jasper shifts away from her touch. “I’m fine, thank you.”_

_“Are you sure? A water, maybe some juice?”_

_“I’m fine.” Jasper growls. At the flight attendant’s shocked look, he forces a fake smile on his face. As soon as the flight leaves, Jasper starts tapping on his armrest again. When he looks back, he sees the flight attendant conversing with the other crewmembers. Nervously, he hunches down in his seat in an effort to draw less attention to himself. A minute later, he carefully glances around the seat again to see them looking at him this time._

_When the flight attendant takes a step towards him, Jasper quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and shoots up, walking quickly down the aisle towards the front of the plane._

_Jasper hears one of them call out to him from behind, “Sir, excuse me,” which only makes him increase his pace. Shoving his way past a blonde woman standing in the aisle, he quickly makes it to the bathroom in the middle of the plane. Finding them both locked and occupied, he starts striding towards the front of the plane, ignoring the continued shouts from behind him._

_Suddenly, the plane rocks from turbulence, and Jasper has to grab onto the seats on either side to stay steady. While the flight attendants stop to make an announcement about fastening their seatbelts, Jasper pushes through the curtain dividing coach from first class and walks toward the bathrooms at the front of the plane, quickly closing and locking the door behind him._

_Jasper puts the lid down on the toilet and sits down, taking off his sneaker to pull out a small bag of heroin. The plane rocks again, and he drops it on the ground as he braces himself._

_“Sir, are you alright?” A male flight attendant asks as he knocks on the door._

_“I’m fine, just… doing my business. I will be out in a minute!” Jasper quickly unties the bag and grabs a pinch of the drug to rub it under his front lip. Jasper sags against the door in relief as his high starts to hit._

_“Sir, please open the door.” The flight attendant knocks again, more forcefully this time._

_Frantic, Jasper opens the toilet lid and drops the bag inside it, but before he can flush it, he is slammed against the wall as the turbulence worsens. He quickly opens the door, and seeing no flight attendants, he stumbles back down the aisle out of first class. When the shaking becomes almost too much for him to handle, he falls into a random seat and buckles up, just in time, as the plane starts descending rapidly. Metal creaks and alarms sound, and Jasper frantically grabs an oxygen mask, looking around in fear._

* * *

 

Back on the beach, Octavia lies on her back in a fire engine red bikini, soaking up the sun. When a shadow covers her face, she opens her eyes in anger to find her brother standing over her. “Hey, you’re blocking my light!”

Bellamy looks grumpily down at this sister, half-naked and laying on the beach. “O, this isn’t a vacation. You can’t just lie in the sun all day. Come help me sort through the luggage.”

Octavia huffs and closes her eyes again. “You’re wasting your time. Rescue is on their way.”

“We don’t know how long it will take for them to get to us. It could be a couple days.”

When Octavia just ignores him, Bellamy turns and stomps away through the sand, kicking some sand onto her in his anger.

Octavia whines her displeasure and glares off after her brother.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Octavia turns her head to see an attractive young man around her age lounging on an airline seat. Turning her charm on, she sends him a flirty smile. “Ewww, no. That’s my older brother, Bellamy. He took me on this trip to Australia for my 25th birthday, but look how it turned out.”

The boy laughs and scoots closer. “I’m Atom.”

Octavia sends him a smile. “Octavia.”

* * *

 

Farther down the beach, Harper walks up to the edge of the shore, staring out at the small Asian man currently picking his way through the rocks and the surf. “Hello!” She calls out to him, catching his attention. “I brought you some food!” She holds up a tray.

Monty looks up from his search for food to see a woman he has never met before yelling at him and holding a tray of gross airplane food. Sighing, he walks in from the water, setting the mussels and sea urchins he had been collecting next to the rest of his pile.

Harper beams at the adorable young Asian man, and holds out a tray. “I think it’s great that you’re already looking for other sources of food, just in case, you know, we get stuck here for a while. But you didn’t eat last night, so I thought you might be hungry.”

“Thank you.” He says quietly.

“By the way, I’m Harper.” She holds out her hand, and Monty politely shakes it. “Anyways, I was just wandering around, looking for my dog, when I saw you over here. You haven’t seen him, have you? He’s a yellow lab.”

Monty sees the hint of sadness on Harper’s face and feels bad. “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t, but I promise to keep an eye out for him.”

“Thank you. I’m going to go look for him, then I’ll come back to try whatever you’re making, if that’s OK?”

“Sure, of course.”

“Great. Bye Monty!”

Monty waves goodbye and watches as Harper disappears into the jungle. Deciding that he has enough seafood for now, he puts it all in an empty suitcase and starts walking back towards the wreckage to prepare it. At the last minute, he turns around and picks up the tray of food that Harper had given him. Who knows when the next time would be that he would get to eat shitty pasta.

When Monty returns to the wreckage, he finds everyone gathered in a large circle, chattering anxiously. As he makes his way towards the front where he can see, he spots two men in the middle of a brawl.

* * *

Bellamy winds up and punches Atom in the face as hard as he can. The younger man staggers backwards and looks around for someone to help him, but no one is moving besides Murphy, who is struggling to restrain a yelling Octavia. The next time that he swings, Atom ducks at the last moment, just barely avoiding the hit.

“Hey! What’s going on here?” Lincoln yells as he comes running up to the group. With Atom distracted, Bellamy seizes the opportunity to pounce on top of him, landing several more hard hits to his face and torso.

Lincoln grabs the back of Bellamy’s shirt and hauls him off Atom, but in his anger, Bellamy turns to take a swing at Lincoln. Fortunately, Lincoln is a trained soldier, and he catches Bellamy’s fist with his hand. “Enough!” He growls at the out of control man.

Octavia elbows Murphy in the stomach hard enough for him to release her, and she quickly runs up to her brother. To everyone’s shock, she slaps him. “What is wrong with you?”

“Octavia, he had his hands all over you!”

“Bellamy, I’m an adult! I can do what I want!” Turning around, she runs up to Atom, who is still lying on the ground, and starts wiping the blood off his face.

Bellamy tries to break from Lincoln’s hold to go after his sister, but fighting against the stronger man is futile. Still, he continues to struggle, yelling at Atom to get away from his sister.

Having heard the shouts coming from the beach, Lexa, Clarke, and Jasper run the last hundred yards through the jungle, emerging on the beach to a very confusing situation.

“Stop this nonsense!” Lexa yells loudly, in a voice that is not to be disobeyed. Bellamy freezes and the chatter dies down from the rest of the group. She looks around, making sure that everyone’s attention is on her before she speaks. “We found the transceiver, but it’s damaged. Is there anyone here who can help?”

There is a silence, until a small voice speaks up. “I can look at it. I am pretty good with technology.” All eyes turn to the small Asian man holding a suitcase and a tray of food.

Clarke takes the transceiver from Lexa, not wanting her to intimidate this poor fellow. Smiling, she tells him, “That’s great. If you need help, or materials, just let us know.”

Monty nods and trades Clarke the tray of food for the transceiver. “I will go get started right now.”

As the crowd disperses, Bellamy shoves free of Lincoln’s arms and storms away. Lexa raises her eyebrow at Lincoln, and he smiles at her in concern. “Are you OK? What happened to your arm?”

“Dislocated it again. Clarke fixed it.”

Lincoln smiles knowingly at her. “Clarke, huh?” When Lexa just raises an eyebrow at him in question, he backs off. “So, how did it go? I’m guessing there were no survivors?”

Lexa shakes her head and sighs. She steps closer to him and puts her free hand on his cheek, pretending to be examining the cut on his forehead. Quietly, she murmurs the story the pilot had told them and what had happened to him. When she’s finished, she removes her hand and steps away from him. Lincoln clenches his jaw, trying to contain his emotions. Lexa stretches her hand out to squeeze his in comfort. “Linc, I’m getting us off this island.” After a moment, he relaxes and nods at her. “How’s Gustus?”

“No worse, no better. He still hasn’t woken up.”

Lexa looks down to hide her face and then turns to walk away. “I better go check on him.”

Lincoln grabs her arm and swings her around to face him again. He steps closer, but Lexa still won’t meet his eyes. “Hey,” he softly murmurs, cupping her elbow in support. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

Lexa swallows hard, and then fixes her stoic mask into place. “We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.” Before Lincoln can refute her claim, she turns on her heel and walks toward the medical tent.

Clarke looks up from where she was examining Atom to see the tail end of Lexa’s conversation with Lincoln. Since Atom just has bruises and small cuts, she lets Octavia take care of him and stands up to go talk to Lincoln.

“Is she OK? How’s Gustus?” She asks him with concern.

Lincoln smiles grimly at her, but refuses to comment on her first question, knowing how private Lexa is. “No change. You should probably check on him, though. And Raven. She’s… extremely eager to get up. ”

Clarke smiles at him. “I’ll go right there.” She gives his arm a brief squeeze and tells him “Thank you” before she turns to walk towards the medical tent.

When Clarke steps inside, it takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, but when they do, she sees Lexa kneeling down next to Gustus with his hand in hers. Deciding to give her a moment of privacy with him, she walks over and bends down next to Raven.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Raven snorts. “Just peachy. Does that mean I can leave?”

Clarke rolls her eyes and smiles at the woman. “No, you need to keep this leg still.” She lifts up the towel to examine the wound she had stitched around Raven’s knee the other night. It doesn’t look infected, but the knee is still swollen. She had set the leg the other day, but she had no idea of the true extent of the damage to the bone, soft tissue, or nerves in and around the knee.

Raven grimaces. “That bad, uh?”

Clarke looks up quickly, hiding whatever facial expression she had unknowingly revealed. “No, it looks fine.”

Raven sighs. “Don’t bullshit me, Doc. What’s going on?”

Clarke sighs. “Close your eyes.” When Raven complies, Clarke drags a pen down Raven’s foot. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?” Raven laughs, but when Clarke doesn’t answer, she opens her fear filled eyes. “Clarke?”

Clarke moves a hand to Raven’s shoulder in comfort. “I stopped the bleeding and set the bone, but without access to medical equipment, there’s not much else I can do. There might be damage to the nerves and soft tissue in your leg and knee. As soon as rescue gets here, we’ll get you an MRI.”

“And what if they don’t get here for another day or two? What if it’s a week? What then?” Raven is yelling now, and Lexa looks up at them in concern.

“Shhh, Raven, calm down, they’re coming; we found the transceiver. I know it’s hard, but you have to be patient. I know you’re in pain, but I’ll go through the medicines and try to find something to help, OK?”

Raven turns her face away from Clarke, but Clarke can still see her angrily wipe away a tear sliding down her face. “OK, thanks, Doc.” Clarke squeezes her shoulder in comfort and moves to get up, but Raven stops her. “Did you call them yet? On the transceiver? You said you found it, but have you gotten in contact with anyone?”

Clarke bites her lip, unsure how much to tell her. Raven will most likely see through any lie she tells her, so decides to tell her the truth. “We’re having some trouble with it, but I’m sure it will be working soon.”

At Clarke’s words, Raven tries to push herself up. “I’m a mechanical engineer, I can probably help!”

Clarke looks over to Lexa, who has been keeping a close eye on them since Raven’s outburst previously. Clarke motions to her, and she walks over to them. “Lexa, could you go find Monty? Raven might be able to help him with the transceiver.”

Lexa nods and without another word disappears outside into the bright light.

“Lover girl isn’t much for words, is she?”

Clarke turns to Raven in surprise. “What? We aren’t… It’s not like that.”

Raven smirks. “Suuuuure. I may be stuck in this tent, but even in the small time I have been around you two I have seen the sexual tension.”

Clarke blushes and gives Raven’s arm a gentle shove, careful not to jostle her too much. When Raven laughs, Clarke leaves to go check on Gustus.

After a few moments, Clarke sees Monty, Lexa, and Lincoln come in. Monty sits down near Raven, and together, they start taking apart the transceiver and fiddling with it. Lincoln and Lexa walk straight towards her and kneel down next to her.

With Raven and Monty distracted, Lincoln quietly asks, “How is she?”

Clarke’s shoulders sag. “Not good. I think there’s damage to the ligaments and tendons in her knee, maybe the nerves. If she doesn’t get to a hospital soon…” Clarke’s lower lip starts to tremble. “I told her that rescue was coming but…”

Clarke realizes what she has said and looks at Lincoln, but he looks unsurprised.

“Lexa told me about the pilot.”

Clarke nods and Lexa takes one of Clarke’s hands in her free hand. “You’re doing the best you can with what you have.”

Clarke nods and takes a few deep breaths. When she has composed herself, Lexa lets go of her hand and fixes her green-eyes on her. “And Gustus?”

Clarke looks down at her hands, unable to meet her and Lincoln’s intense stares. “I need to take out the shrapnel.”

Lexa puts her finger under Clarke’s chin for a second, forcing her to meet her gaze. Calmly, she asks her, “But you said yesterday that you shouldn’t take it out.”

Clarke switches her gaze to Lincoln, unable to meet Lexa’s eyes. “I thought rescue would have come by now. If I leave it in, he’ll die in a day, two at the most.”

“Can you do it?” Lincoln asks her.

“I’m in the 3rd year of my surgical residency. I haven’t decided on a specialty yet, but I have some experience in all of them. I’ve assisted on some surgeries like this, but… I don’t have the proper tools, medicine, a sterile environment… He could bleed out before I can stop it, he could go into shock, get an infection…” Clarke switches her gaze back to Lexa, finding strength in those green eyes. More confident this time, she tells them, “but it’s our only option.”

Lexa nods and Lincoln is about to say something, when Raven yells.

“Nice job, Monty!”

Clarke looks hopefully at them. “Did you fix it?”

Monty fiddles with some knobs and buttons before answering. “We got it working, but we aren’t picking up a signal.”

“What does that mean? Don’t we want to send a signal, not receive it?” Lincoln asks.

“We need reception to send the signal, like a cell phone needs service. We don’t have any bars right now, but we could broadcast blind and hope someone picks up the signal.”

Lexa stands. “So why aren’t you doing it?”

Raven shakes her head and takes the transceiver from Monty, fiddling with it some more. “We would be wasting the battery. The chances of someone picking up that signal would be low.”

Clarke thinks for a moment. “You said it needs reception, like a cellphone? So could holding it up higher work?”

Raven’s eyes light up. “Hey, tall dark and handsome, we need your height.”

Lincoln blushes slightly, but complies, walking over to take the transceiver and holding it up. After a moment of anxious waiting, he shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Monty stands up and starts pushing him, with no effect. “Go outside, maybe the tent is interfering.”

Lincoln turns, almost knocking Monty over, and walks outside, still holding the transceiver up. Lexa steadies Monty on her way by, and he follows her and Clarke outside the tent.

After a few moments of silence, Raven yells, “Well? Anything?”

Lincoln shakes his head sadly. Monty hangs his head, and Clarke puts her hand on his shoulder to soothe him, but Lexa stares off into the distance.

“What about higher ground?”

The three look up at her and follow her gaze, where she is looking at a tall mountain about a mile inland.

Monty shakes his head. “That could work.”

Lexa turns to face Lincoln. “Linc, get Monty some good shoes. I’ll get the food and water.”

Lincoln nods his head and grabs Monty by the arm to steer him away. “ _Sha, Heda_.”

Lexa heads back into the tent followed by a very confused Clarke.

“So, did it work?” Raven asks hopefully.

Clarke ignores Raven. “Lexa, what are you doing?”

Lexa ignores them both and walks over to her backpack, picking it up. She bends down to whisper some words in Gustus’ ear and then without looking back, strides out of the tent.

Clarke grabs her arm on her way past, trying to stop her, but quickly lets go when Lexa glares at her. Ignoring Raven’s yells, she follows Lexa out of the tent and into the one next door, which was empty.

“Lexa, what’s going on?” Lexa starts trying to take off the sling that Clarke had made for her, and upon seeing her struggle, Clarke moves to help her. “Lexa…” Clarke pleads in a low voice.

Freed of the sling, Lexa turns her back on Clarke and strips off her shirt, revealing her toned, tanned back with a black tattoo down her spine, partially hidden by her sports bra. “I’m going on another hike.”

            Clarke nearly loses her breath at all the skin Lexa is showing. When Clarke finally processes Lexa’s words, she grabs her by her uninjured shoulder and yanks her around. “What?!”

“We have to send out a signal before the battery dies. Higher ground will give us the best opportunity to do that.”

Clarke angrily whispers, not wanting everyone to overhear their conversation. “Lexa, you saw what that thing did to the pilot! It could kill you!”

Lexa angrily whispers back. “I can take care of myself. Besides, Lincoln will be with me.”

            “What about Gustus?”

            A brief flicker of pain flashes across Lexa’s face, but it is gone as fast as it appeared. “What about him, Clarke?”

           “You’re just going to leave him here? I have to do the surgery soon, I can’t wait for you to get back.”

            Lexa looks away from Clarke’s angry gaze, giving Clarke the chance to fully take in Lexa’s shirtless form. A hint of cleavage is visible just above her black sports bra, and she has _abs_. Clarke barely tears her ogling gaze away in time so Lexa doesn’t catch her.

            “I can do nothing to help him here. The sooner we get a signal, the sooner we get rescued, and the sooner he gets the medical attention he needs.” Clarke’s hand falls from Lexa’s shoulder, and Lexa turns around to take a black tank top from her bag and pull it on. When she struggles getting it over her injured shoulder, Clarke helps.

            Lexa’s back is still turned to her, but Clarke leaves her hand resting on her shoulder. “He might wake up, during the surgery. Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

            Lexa leans back into Clarke’s touch ever so softly. After a moment of tense silence, she replies. “No.” She shrugs out of Clarke’s touch and bends down to pick up her discarded shirt and backpack.

            Clarke sighs but steps back and bends down to pick up the discarded makeshift sling, giving Lexa space. When Lexa turns around, Clarke doesn’t think she’s going to meet her eyes, so she grabs her wrist gently to stop her. Clarke holds up the sling and Lexa tries to take a step back, but Clarke gives her a stern look and Lexa gives in, allowing Clarke to put the sling back on. When Clarke is finished tying the last of the knots, green eyes meet blue, and Clarke whispers, “If you see or hear anything, _anything at all_ , run. Don’t be a hero.”

            Lexa steps forward and presses her forehead to Clarke’s. She whispers, “That’s the last thing I am” into the inches that separate them, and then she’s gone, leaving the tent before Clarke can say anything else, or even turn to watch her leave. Clarke stares forlornly after her, before sighing and heading off to find Wells.

As Clarke walks down the beach looking for Wells, she finds him going through luggage on the beach. “Hey. What are you doing?”

            Wells smiles at her and stands up, brushing sand off his jeans. “Me and a couple of the others are going through the luggage, sorting it and looking for anything useful.”

            “Perfect, I could use your help then. I need any and all drugs you found, especially the pain meds and antibiotics. I’m also looking for a blade or anything sharp.”

            Wells looks at her in concern. “What’s this for?”

            Clarke sighs. “Raven needs pain medicine for her leg, even if it’s just Advil. Gustus… I have to take the shrapnel out of his abdomen. You used to spend hours watching my mom’s surgery videos with me, I could use your help if you wouldn’t mind. If he wakes up, I’m going to need someone to hold him down.”

            Wells nods at her. “Sure, Clarke. Whatever you need.”

            Clarke walks over to the piles that the other survivors at sorted the luggage into and starts going through them, looking for what she needs. While she’s trying to decide which pocketknife will work the best, Maya walks up to talk to her.

            “Hey, Clarke.”

            Distracted, Clarke only flashes a brief smile up at the young girl. “Hey, Maya. What’s up?”

            Seeing how busy Clarke is makes Maya nervous, but she pushes on. “Ummm, I haven’t… I mean I’m sure it’s fine but, I haven’t felt the baby move since yesterday before the plane crash and I was just…”

            Clarke quickly stands up and puts her hand on Maya’s shoulder in comfort. “You went through a stressful event yesterday, both of you. Everything is probably fine, OK? You just need to keep resting, try not to stress yourself out, try to keep hydrated, and eat some food. Make sure to ask Harper for extra, OK?” When Maya nods, Clarke bends down to continue going through the luggage.

            Maya sighs and walks further down the beach, away from everyone else. She sits down in the shade at the top of the beach and slips off her shoes, burying her toes in the sand and trying to relax. After a moment, she closes her eyes and focuses on the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, trying to slow her breathing. She is startled awake, however, at the sound of someone crashing through the forest loudly. She tenses but doesn’t have time to get up before the intruder bursts from the forest and into the sunlight.

            “Jasper?” Maya asks, having seen the man before but never been introduced.

            The man looks around, still adjusting to the bright light after the darkness of the jungle, and shoves something into his pocket before she can see it. He rubs his nose and sniffs as he turns to face her, looking a little wild.

            Maya smiles at him, realizing that he probably doesn’t know who she is. “Hi, I’m Maya.”

            Jasper smiles goofily at her and holds out his hand to shake. “Jasper.” He trips a little on the sand, and Maya helps him fall into a seated position next to her, still holding his hand. “Careful there.”

            Jasper laughs and blushes a little, looking away shyly. Realizing that his hand in still in hers, he goes to drop it, but suddenly her grip tightens on him.

            “Oh my gosh!” Maya yells and starts laughing. Jasper looks over at her in concern but she just grabs his hand and moves it towards her belly. “I just felt it!” Maya puts Jasper’s hand on her swollen belly, and for a moment he is confused and embarrassed, until he feels something move. “Did you feel that?” Maya starts laughing joyously and Jasper can’t help the smile that forms on his face at her radiance.

            “Was that…?”

            Maya smiles and nods enthusiastically at Jasper, who returns her smile and laughs along with her.

* * *

 

Further down the beach, Lexa meets up with Lincoln and Monty. She makes to start distributing half of what is in her backpack to give to Lincoln, but he stops her.

“ _Heda_ , you should rest your shoulder. I am more than capable of carrying the supplies.”

Lexa looks like she wants to protest, but when Lincoln gives her a stern look she relents. After more than 10 years in the Army she was used to pain, but this could be a long hike, and the pack weighed only half of what she and Lincoln were used to carrying. “Monty, are you ready?”

Monty nods nervously, slightly intimidated by these two warriors. Lexa returns his nod, and the group starts their walk towards the jungle, but a loud yell stops them before they enter its depths.

“I’m coming with you!” The fiery brunette comes running up to them, slightly out of breath from her run down the beach.

Lexa looks over her shoulder to see her older brother running towards them, yelling. She turns to Lincoln and rolls her eyes, and he quirks an eyebrow up at her as he smiles.

“Octavia Blake, you are _not_ going!” The older boy angrily glares at her, panting from chasing her down the beach.

“Bellamy, I’m an adult! I am sick of you hovering over me all the time! The worst part about being stuck on this island is that I am stuck with _you_. I just need some space, OK?”

Lexa takes this as her opportunity to speak up. “Needing space is not a good reason to trek into the jungle. It will be a long, difficult hike, and we are still not fully aware of all the dangers that the jungle holds. You should remain here.”

Octavia shoots her a glare. “Who made you the boss? You’re taking him,” Octavia gestures Monty, whose eyes widen at the though of being dragged into this fight. “I know I’m in better shape than he is. Besides, _you’re_ the injured one, making _you_ the liability.”

Lexa takes a step closer to Octavia and growls menacingly, “I would watch who you call the liability; I could still easily remove your tongue with only one arm.”

Octavia doesn’t flinch under Lexa’s glare. Realizing that neither woman is going to back down, Lincoln steps in, putting out his hands to separate them. “Although I wouldn’t recommend it, we can’t stop you if you want to come with us. But we are leaving _now_. Let’s go.” Lincoln puts his arm on Monty’s shoulder and guides him to turn around and follow Lexa, who is currently striding angrily into the jungle.

            Octavia shoots Bellamy a triumphant look and follows the rest of the group into the jungle. Bellamy sighs and angrily throws his hands up in the air in defeat, then follows them.

            Unknown to the group, Murphy had been watching their fight from nearby. He debated for a few seconds, and then got up, shoving a carefully folded letter in his pocket. When he catches up to the group, Lexa pauses and turns around to glare at him, evidently having heard his approach.

            “You said anyone could come.” Murphy snarks at her.

            Lexa turns back around and continues without another word. Bellamy drops back to walk next to Murphy, quietly murmuring to him. 

* * *

 

            Clarke catches the tail end of the group leaving the beach, watching Lexa stride angrily into the jungle. Last night Lexa had told her to take care of her stitched up side, and today she was hiking all over the woods with her dislocated shoulder in a sling she didn’t even want to wear. Clarke scoffs at her hypocrisy and stoops to search through some more suitcases. And yet, Clarke still worries for the green-eyed brunette. And the others too, of course.

            Realizing that she had been frozen over the suitcase lost in her thoughts, Clarke shakes her head to focus herself. She’s going to have to do surgery on Gustus soon, and she needs to have all of her attention focused on preparing for it. As she moves onto more suitcases, gathering any medicine, first aid kits, and water that she can find, Harper walks up to her.

            “Hi, Clarke, what are you doing?”

            Clarke looks up briefly to flash her smile. “Hey, Harper. I’m just looking for any medicine and other supplies.”

            “Oh, that’s good. I can help. What’s it for?”

            Clarke pauses, wanting to keep the surgery as secret as possible, but knowing that there is little she can do to hide it. “I have to take the shrapnel out of Gustus’ stomach or he’ll die.”

            Harper’s eyes bulge wide. “Oh… wow.”

            Clarke sighs. “Yeah, I know.”

            Harper’s face morphs into one of confusion. “Wait a minute, aren’t Lexa and Lincoln friends with Gustus? Why are they hiking into the jungle if you’re going to do surgery on him? Don’t they want to be here?”

            Clarke grimaces but doesn’t answer. Sensing that this is a sensitive subject, Harper quietly continues to search through the suitcases.

“Here.” Clarke looks up and Harper tosses her a bottle pain medicine. Clarke smiles in relief; these will be perfect for Raven and if Gustus wakes up, him too. “My dog had these last year when he had surgery. Will they help?”

            “They’re perfect. Thank you.” Clarke gathers up her supplies to head back to the medical tent when she pauses. “Was the dog on the plane?”

            Harper freezes her movements and keeps her eyes fixed on the suitcase in front of her. “Yeah… I have been looking for him all morning but I haven’t been able to find him.”

            “A yellow lab?”

            Harper looks up at her in surprise. “Yeah, how did you know?”

            “I saw him yesterday in the jungle. He woke me up by licking my face.”

            Harper laughs at this. “That sounds just like him.”

            “It wasn’t too far in, maybe 500 yards or so. I’m sure he’s just scared and will come looking for you soon. Probably when he gets hungry.”

            Harper jumps up and gives Clarke a big hug. “Thank you so much.”

            Clarke laughs and tries not to drop any of the medicines she is carrying. “I haven’t done anything. Hey, I have to get going, but I hope you find him soon.”

            Harper steps back with a smile on her face. “OK, good luck!” Not waiting for Clarke’s reply, she takes off for the jungle to go look for her dog. Clarke shakes her head at the woman and heads back to the medical tent to give Raven her much needed pain medicine and start preparing Gustus for the surgery.

* * *

 

            Lexa was emotional; the past few weeks had been difficult and with the plane crash on top of that, she was dealing with a lot feelings. And feelings were weakness. So she had done what she did best and channeled them into productivity. She had set a punishing pace, and soon the group had arrived at the base of the mountain. It wasn’t too steep that they couldn’t climb it, but it would still pose a challenge. Lincoln took the lead, followed by Octavia, then Lexa, Bellamy, Monty, and Murphy. Despite the earlier tension, they did not hesitate to help each other up the incline, placing hands up to steady those sliding back in the loose dirt and reaching back to help pull their companions up. Octavia was a pleasant surprise, for she was in great shape as she had said. However, she still took every opportunity to take the hand of the mysterious, handsome warrior leading them. Bellamy in turn aided Lexa from below in case she was to fall, but fortunately she never did. Monty made his way up the mountain as quickly as he could, trying to avoid the wrath of the grumpy Murphy.

            When the group made it to the top, they were all disheveled and covered in dirt and sweat, panting for breath. After a few moments, Lexa had her breath back and start striding across the flat area, heading for the next steep incline. Lincoln moves to follow her, and Octavia to follow him.

            “We should check the radio.” Murphy pants out.

            “We aren’t going to have any reception here.” Lexa calls from over her back.

            “Just try it.” Murphy growls angrily from behind.

            “We can’t waste the battery.” Monty pipes up, but quickly shrinks back when Murphy sends a glare his way.

            “You don’t have to keep it on, just turn it on for a minute and try it.” Bellamy calls out, siding with Murphy.

            Lexa stops and turns around to walk back towards the dissenters. “We still are not at the top of the mountain. We should only use the battery when we have the highest odds of success.”

            Lincoln steps up protectively behind Lexa’s back as Murphy steps threateningly towards her, yelling, “Just check the damn radio! Why should we hike all the way up this damn mountain if we don’t need to?”

            Lexa’s nostrils flare in anger, but before she can retort, the group hears a roar nearby.

            Besides Lincoln and Murphy, everyone’s eyes shoot to Lexa’s in fear. “Run.” She tells them calmly, taking off into the dense grass as fast as she can. Bellamy grabs Octavia’s hand and yanks her, startling her out of her frozen stupor and forcing her to start running. Monty takes off after them and Lincoln follows.

A roar sounds from behind them and Lexa looks back to check on the rest of the group, but she doesn’t see Murphy. She stops and Bellamy and Octavia fly past her. “Murphy!” Lexa yells out as Monty passes her. When she doesn’t see him, she starts running back towards the way they had come, but Lincoln wraps his arms around her to stop her.

“Let him go!” Lincoln yells, trying to force her to keep moving away from the roar.

Lexa looks up at Lincoln, eyes wild. “I won’t lose someone else!”

Before Lincoln can reply, the sound of a gunshot rings through the jungle. The group freezes, and several more shots are fired. A roar sounds and is sharply cut off by another gunshot. Lexa breaks Lincoln’s hold and takes off running back towards Murphy.

* * *

 

            Clarke had just set up everything that she had needed for the surgery and was watching over a now sleeping Raven when Wells burst into the medical tent. “Clarke, guess what I found?”

            Clarke looks up in excitement, expecting Wells to be holding a radio or even a scalpel, but he’s just holding a wooden box. “What is it?”

            Wells grins at her and opens the box, revealing a set of white and black pieces. “Chess! We crash landed on an island and there’s a chess set!”

            Clarke stands up and stalks towards Wells angrily. “I’m about to do surgery on a man, who is probably some war hero, while stranded on a desert island with no proper tools, and you want me to be excited about _chess_?”

            Wells holds his hands up in defense. “Easy, Clarke, I was just trying to give you something to cheer you up.”

            “The only thing that’s going to cheer me up is if you tell me there’s a rescue boat here, ready to take Gustus to safety,” Clarke growls at him.

            “Clarke, I’m sorry.” Wells drops the wooden box and pulls her into a hug. She resists at first, but finally relaxes into her old friend. When Wells hears a sniffle, he starts rubbing her back in soothing circles. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to do great.” Clarke nods her head into Wells’ neck, taking a deep breath and relaxing into his comfort for one more moment before she steps away from his hold. “You OK?”

            Clarke nods. “Are you ready?”

            Wells gives her a grim small smile and the two walk over to Gustus. Clarke kneels on the side with the shrapnel, and Wells kneels on the other.

            “Ready, Princess?” Wells smiles at her.

            Clarke frowns in mock anger. “Don’t call me that.” Wells only smirks at her in response. Clarke pours alcohol over her hands and the knife she is going to use and makes sure that all her bandages, towels, and other medical supplies are within easy reach. “The pain might cause him to wake up, and if it does, I need you to hold him down. Ready?”

            Wells nods and leans over the large man, grabbing his wrists in preparation.

            Clarke takes a deep breath and puts her hands on the shrapnel, getting a steady grip on it. She slows her breathing and silently counts to five, then quickly pulls out the shrapnel at the same angle it entered his abdomen. At the squelching sound that comes from the shrapnel leaving Gustus’ abdomen, Wells mutters “Oh God” and promptly passes out next to Gustus.

            “Fuck!” Clarke grunts as she tries to stop the new blood pouring out of the gash in Gustus’ side. “I won’t let this happen again.” She mutters to herself as she starts packing the wound with gauze.

* * *

Despite Clarke’s plea to not be a hero, Lexa still runs back through the grass until she gets to a clearing, where she sees Murphy standing over the body of a jaguar. Her relief doesn’t show, however, as she just glares at the gun in his hand.

Lincoln bursts through the foliage behind her, closely followed by the others.

“Wow, it’s beautiful!” Octavia cries out, stepping towards the fallen creature. Bellamy quickly pulls her back.

“Careful, O. It might not be dead yet.”

Murphy laughs darkly. “I shot it 6 times, it’s dead.”

“Six times? You’re sure?” Lexa asks him. Seeing what Lexa is planning, Lincoln barely holds in a smirk and starts slowly sidling closer to Murphy.

Murphy shoots her a dark glare. “Yeah, I’m sure G.I. Jane. You aren’t the only one who knows how to use a gun.”

Lexa steps towards him angrily, and Murphy holds up the gun, pointing it at her, but she fearlessly glares him down and swats it out of the way. Murphy reflexively pulls the trigger, but it only clicks emptily, and in anger, Lexa slugs him harder than she originally intended. He gasps, and she grabs his wrist with her hand, digging her fingers into the place that is most painful. Instantly, he drops the gun, and she bends down to pick it up.

Seeing that she is exposed, Murphy looks like he is going to retaliate, but is quickly wrenched backwards as Lincoln twists his arm behind his back _hard_.

            “Touch her, and you will get more than just a punch to the face.” Murphy struggles to free himself, but Lincoln only tightens the hold. “I don’t think Clarke would be happy having to set another bone, do you Lexa?”

            Lexa smirks at Lincoln and nods her head, indicating that he should release Murphy. Lincoln lets go suddenly, causing Murphy to fall flat on his face.

            Octavia looks at Lincoln and Lexa with awe in her eyes. “That was awesome! Can you guys teach me to fight?” Bellamy looks annoyed and Monty looks horrified, but Lexa ignores them as she examines the gun, thumb rubbing over a familiar engraving.

            “Where did you get this? This is Gustus’.” Lexa glowers at Murphy’s fallen form on the ground.

            Murphy spits blood out at Lexa’s feet. Lincoln growls at him and moves to kick him, but Lexa holds up her hand, indicating that he should stop.

Lexa bends down to his eye level and fixes a stoic, intense look on him. “Where. Did. You. Get. This.”

Murphy looks up at her through his long greasy hair, still breathing hard. “I found it on the ground in the jungle.”

“Stop lying.” Lexa glares at him.

Murphy heaves himself up to a sitting position. “I’m not lying! The case it was in must have split open on impact. I found it smashed on the ground, with the ammo and gun nearby.”

Lincoln bends down and starts searching through Murphy’s cargo pants. He tries to shove Lincoln away, but Lincoln shoves his hands away and pulls two clips out of his pants pocket. He holds them out to Lexa, but she shakes her head and stands up, holding the empty gun out to him.

“You have the use of both hands, you should take it.”

Lincoln nods and quickly loads the gun, pressing the safety and sticking it in his waistband at the small of his back. He puts the other clip in his backpack, and looks up at Lexa, who nods at him in approval.

“Who decided that you get to keep the gun?” Bellamy chimes in, moving to help Murphy get up from the ground.

Octavia rolls her eyes at her brother. “Bell, they’re soldiers. You don’t even know how to _use_ a gun.”

Lincoln shoots him a glare. “We should keep moving.” He sets off up the mountain with Lexa at his back, closely followed by Monty and Octavia. After some grumbling, Murphy and Bellamy follow.

* * *

            _The flight attendant looks respectfully at Lexa and Gustus in their dress uniforms. “Is there anything else I can do for you? A cocktail maybe?”_

_Lexa sends her a brief smile. “No, I’m fine.”_

_Gustus shakes his head, his big beard moving side to side as well._

_She sends them a big smile. “Well if you need anything, please let us know. And thank you for your service. You’re heroes.”_

_The two soldiers nod, and the flight attendant walks down the aisle, leaving them alone. Lexa pulls her knees to her chest and turns her body to look morosely out the window, turning her back on Gustus._

_“Heda…” Gustus murmurs. Lexa’s shoulders tense, but she keeps her back to the man. In a quieter tone, he tells her, “Leksa, you have to stop blaming yourself.”_

_Lexa turns her head around to glare at him, fire in her eyes. “We have already had this conversation, Gostos. Leave it alone.”_

_“No, we haven’t. Because you run away anytime someone tries to talk to you about it.” Gustus puts his hand on her shoulder, but she angrily shrugs it off._

_“So this is your solution? Forcing me to talk at 30,000 feet. You know what? I think I will take that drink.” Lexa reaches up to stab the flight attendant button, and Gustus just sighs at her. However, before the flight attendant can reach them, the plane starts shaking._

_The turbulence stops, but an announcement comes on telling everyone to remain in their seats and fasten their seatbelts._

_Lexa rolls her eyes at the inconvenient timing. “Luck is on your side, it seems. So why don’t you just say what you want to say?” Lexa glares at Gustus, and he looks sad, but before he can open his mouth, the plane shakes violently again._

_The two are thrown back in their seats, and the violent shaking increases. An overhead compartment flies open, and a suitcase flies out, smacking Gustus in the head. Blood runs down his forehead and he slouches forward. Lexa lifts up his unconscious head to examine it, but then the oxygen masks fall from above. Holding Gustus with one hand, she puts her mask on and then puts his on, carefully leaning his head back against the seat._

_Alarms increase and the back end of the plane breaks off, creating suction that causes suitcases and other loose objects to fly past them. Lexa clutches the mask to her face with one hand and the armrest with the other, trying to control her rapid breathing as she starts counting._  

* * *

Clarke had shoved Wells off Gustus and worked as quickly as she could, stitching up whatever she could see that was bleeding in his abdomen. She takes another piece of gauze and dabs at the wound, searching for any new forms of bleeding. When some blood starts to fill the opening, she starts searching for the source of the bleeding, until she hears a shallow gasp from above.

Clarke looks up with panicked eyes to see Gustus slowly opening his eyes. “No, no, no, no…” Clarke starts chanting, trying to stitch the bleeding area before he fully awakens.

Suddenly, Gustus shoots halfway upright, dislodging Clarke, but luckily he stops when he feels the intense pain from his side. “ _Heda_!” He cries out, looking around wildly.

            Clarke quickly presses her hands back to his wound, which has started bleeding more vigorously. “Lexa is fine, she’s OK. I’m a doctor, I need you to lay back.” Clarke takes one of her bloody hands and presses it to his shoulder, trying to ease him back. The strong man resists, however, but after another second of frantic searching around, his eyes roll back into his head and he falls back, passing out once more.

            Clarke breathes a sigh of relief and goes back to her work, trying to stop the bleeding. When no more blood fills the wound, she starts stitching up his skin, closing the wound completely. Just as she is wiping the remaining blood from Gustus’ abdomen and covering the wound with a bandage, Wells starts moving. He sits up slowly holding his head and looking at Clarke in confusion. “What happened?’ 

* * *

            A few hours later, the group finally makes it to the top of the mountain. Octavia walks to the edge with Bellamy hovering close to her. Lincoln takes off his backpack to set it on the ground and takes out the transceiver, handing it to an out of breath Monty. Lincoln, Monty, and Lexa stand in a circle, waiting for the transceiver to turn on.

            “We’ve got a bar!” Monty yells excitedly. Bellamy and Octavia run over and push their way into the circle, while Murphy huddles on the outside with just the hint of a smile on his face.

            Monty presses a button on the side of the transceiver and speaks into it, “Mayday! Mayday!” A loud screeching comes from the transceiver, and Monty lets go of the button to stop the noise.

            “What was _that_?” Octavia whines, rubbing her ears.

            “Feedback.” Monty frowns at the radio and starts twirling the knobs.

            Murphy throws up his hands “Just great. Ching-Chong didn’t even fix the radio.”

Everyone shoots Murphy an evil glare, and Lincoln looks like he’s about to punch him for insulting this sweet man, when Monty quietly speaks up. “It’s not broken. We can’t transmit because something else is already transmitting.”

            Lexa frowns. “Transmitting from where?”

            “Somewhere close, the signal is strong.”

            “Somewhere close? On the island? That’s great!” Octavia shouts with joy.

            “Maybe it’s other survivors.” Bellamy offers.

            Lincoln looks at Bellamy skeptically. “From our plane? How would they do that?”

            “What kind of transmission is it?” Lexa asks Monty.

            Monty looks up at her. “It could be a Sat phone, maybe a radio signal, I don’t know.”

            Lexa meets Monty’s eyes. “Can we listen to it?”

            Monty nods and looks back down at the transceiver to start fiddling with the knobs again. “Let me get the frequency first.” After a long few seconds, voices start to fade in and out.

            “It’s a rescue party, it has to be!” Octavia yells. The group quiets down when the signal becomes clear, but when the voice starts speaking they can’t understand it.

            “It’s French.” Murphy grumbles from behind them.

            “Octavia speaks French!” Bellamy yells excitedly, pushing her towards the transceiver.

            “What?! No, I don’t!” Octavia protests.

            “What the hell are you talking about? We’re from Canada, you were in French immersion in school for like 5 years.” Bellamy looks at her in confusion.

            Octavia looks panicked. “That was like 7 years ago! I haven’t used it since!”

            Suddenly, the French man’s voice changes to a robotic one. “Iteration: 1-7-2-9-4-5-3-1”

            “No no no no.”

            “Monty, what’s wrong?” Lexa asks, gripping his shoulder tightly.

            “The batteries are dying!” Monty looks up at Octavia frantically. “We don’t have much time, you need to listen to it!”

            Octavia holds out her hands in protest. “I can’t!”

            “Do you speak French or not, bimbo?”

            Octavia glares at Murphy as she grabs the transceiver, holding it to her ear. She yanks it back when the robotic voice blares through the speaker. “Iteration: 1-7-2-9-4-5-3-2.”

            “What is that weird voice?” Bellamy asks the group.

            Monty is the one who answers his question. “An iteration is the ‘repetition of a process or utterance.’ Something is repeating the same message. The iteration number is how many times the message has been repeated. If I’m right, the next number will end 5-3-3.”

            The group waits quietly, listening to the French man speak, until the eerie voice repeats again. “Iteration: 1-7-2-9-4-5-3-3.”

            Monty starts moving his lips as he starts doing math in his head. Bellamy puts his arm around Octavia’s shoulders. “Come on O, listen. I know you can do it.”

            Octavia takes a deep breath and focuses, trying to remember her schooling from long ago. “He’s saying, ‘ _please, please help me, please come get me_.” Octavia pauses, trying to translate the words. “ _I’m alone now’_ , ummm, ‘ _on the island alone. Please someone come. The others, they’re… they’re dead. They killed them. They killed them all_.” Static starts coming from the transceiver, and then all sound stops; the display has gone black. “The battery, it must have…”

Bellamy squeezes Octavia’s shoulders and kisses her on the side of the head. “Good job, O. You did great.”

“15 years.”

“What?” Lincoln looks at Monty in confusion.

“15 years, 3 months, and roughly 7 days. That’s how long the message has been playing. It’s a Mayday, designed to be picked up by anyone. And if the count is right… It’s been playing over and over…”

“For 15 years?” Murphy cries out in disbelief.

“Maybe they came for them.” Octavia looks up in hope.

Lexa solemnly says, “If someone came, it wouldn’t still be playing.”

As that realization sets in, Murphy starts yelling at Monty that his math has to be wrong, while Monty tries to cower behind Lincoln and explain his mathematics. Octavia leans in to Bellamy’s side and tries to hold back her tears, while Bellamy stands mute with shock. Lexa meets Lincoln’s eyes, a stoic yet grim expression on both of their faces. “Where the _fuck_ are we?” he mutters to her, but Lexa just shakes her head; she has no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment/kudos if you want to say hey, tell me you liked it, point out a grammatical error, tell me you hate it, request something, whatever! I live for them :D


	3. Tabula Rasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1) Tabula rasa is a Latin phrase often translated as “blank slate” in English and originates from the Roman tabula used for notes, which was blanked by heating the wax covering it and then smoothing it down.  
> 2) Tabula rasa refers to the idea that individuals are born without built-in mental content and therefore all knowledge comes from experience or perception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so it's been a long time... Exams... Sorry! It also takes me quite a while to write these chapters because they are so long. Don't worry though, I'm not giving up on this! Flashbacks are in italics and Trigedasleng is in italics!

**Day 1**

            “ _Heda_ , I have to find her.” Gustus moans, delirious with pain.

            “What does Heda mean?” Wells asks Clarke, awake now.

            “I have to protect her. She has to know it’s not her fault.” Gustus’ eyes stare unseeing up at the tent.

            “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. His fever is really high.” Clarke continues to gently clean the rest of the wound and put a bandage over it. She can feel the heat of infection radiating off it.

            Suddenly, Gustus grabs Clarke’s arm and squeezes. “My jacket pocket.”

            Clarke looks at him in confusion and leans closer. “What is it?”

            “It’s in my jacket pocket. You have to give it to her.”

            Clarke looks over at Wells and he shuffles down to Gustus’ feet where his jacket lays, neatly folded, most likely by Lexa. He reaches into one pocket and finds nothing, but in the other he finds a pair of dog tags on a chain with a braid made of hair wrapped around it. When Gustus sees them, he tries to sit up and take them, but Clarke puts her hand on his shoulder to hold him down and holds out her hand to Wells for them.

            Wells hands Clarke the dog tags and she gently cradles them and goes to hand them to Gustus, but he has passed out. She looks at the name on them. ‘Costia Rosewood.’

            “Who do they belong to?” Wells asks her.

            “I don’t know.” Clarke sighs and carefully puts them in Gustus’ pants pocket within his reach, knowing that he would want to give them to Lexa as soon as she returned.

* * *

          Despite the stress that the group was under from the latest revelation, Lexa and Lincoln had pushed them to start the hike down the mountain. They pass the body of jaguar as the light is starting to fade, and Lexa pauses, looking out over the jungle and the setting sun. “We should make camp here.”

            Lincoln nods at her in affirmation. When Octavia looks at them in confusion, he explains, “Darkness is falling, we will need the last of the light to collect wood for a fire.”

            Murphy strides past Lexa and Lincoln without pause. “I’m not stopping. You guys have a nice camp out, I’ll see you at the beach tomorrow.”

            Lexa glares at him. “You will not make it to the beach before full darkness hits. Even if you know how to navigate with the stars, which I highly doubt, you will be unable to see them through the thick canopy of trees. Not to mention the predators that hunt at night.”

            “If you’re so worried about me, why don’t you give me the gun back.” Murphy sneers at her.

            “More than one monster lives in these woods, and I promise you that a handgun will not faze it.” Lexa’s knowing eyes emphasize her promise, and Murphy swallows hard at her cold tone.

            “Octavia and I can help with the wood, Lincoln.” Bellamy says, trying to break the tension.

            Lexa nods at him. “Good. We will need enough to last through the night. Murphy and Monty, I will need your help with something else.” Monty tries to smile at Lexa, but he is still slightly scared of her. Murphy scowls at her, but acquiesces. Lincoln hands Lexa the backpack and takes off for the forest, closely followed by Bellamy and Octavia.

            Lincoln picks up a thin stick and puts a hand on Octavia’s shoulder as he shows it to her. “We will need kindling like this to get the fire started. Lots of it. Bellamy and I can find the big pieces if you can find these.”

            Octavia scowls at him. “I am not weak, you don’t need to baby me.”

            Lincoln sends her a soft smile. “I have no doubt of that. But _Heda_ is the one who usually starts the fire, and since she is unable, I will have to do it. There is a chance that it will take me several attempts. In that case, I will need someone who knows what to look for in case I burn through all our kindling.”

            Octavia smiles at him, accepting his answer, and then proceeds to collect kindling for the fire. The group makes several trips back and forth to the designated campsite, and when the sun finally sets, Lincoln starts the fire.

            Octavia watches the flames catch on the first try and raises an eyebrow at him. “That ‘bad at starting fires’ story was bullshit, wasn’t it?”

Lincoln sends her a soft smile. “I have confidence of your inner strength, _Okteivia_ , but working out in a gym is much different than manual labor. I am sure that with time, however, you will become accustomed to it.”

Octavia shivers at the way Lincoln says her name, and Bellamy scowls, glaring at the two of them. Before he can say anything, however, Murphy and Monty come out of the forest, carrying a stick between them with large, red chunks on it. Lexa follows, covered in blood and with a pelt on her back. Lincoln quickly hops up to take it from her, and she smiles at him in thanks. She strips off her bloody T-shirt and wipes her hands and arms with it before pulling a clean one from her backpack. Meanwhile, Lincoln lays the pelt on the ground and picks out several sticks from the wood pile to start making the vertical parts of the spit.

“What is that for?” Octavia gestures to the meat on Monty and Murphy’s sticks.

“Jungle Jane thinks we are going to eat this.” Murphy scoffs.

“Nobody has to do anything that they do not want to, but _I_ am hungry. You can eat the food you brought.” Murphy frowns at her and Lexa smirks, knowing that he does not have anything else to eat. Octavia giggles at Lexa’s sass and Murphy shoots her a glare as well.

Lincoln looks up from his task to tease Lexa. Her good moods don’t come often, and he has to take advantage of them. “ _Leksa_ , you should put your sling back on, or a certain blonde is going to be angry.” Lexa scowls at him and Octavia laughs even harder, but she does as he says, telling herself that it’s not because she is worried about the wrath of a certain blonde, but because her arm does actually hurt. 

* * *

An hour later, full darkness has surrounded the group, the only light coming from the fire. Heads are starting to nod as the heat from the fire and their full bellies make them sleepy. The jaguar hadn’t been half bad, although a little tough. Lincoln had even stretched the pelt out across two sticks to dry it. Lexa snorts in amusement. She really will be like Jungle Jane if she keeps the fur.

Octavia had been sitting in pensive silence, and Lexa’s snort brings her out of her thoughts. “What are we going to tell the others?”

“Nothing.” Lexa answers quickly. “We tell them nothing. They don’t need to know.”

“What are you talking about? They have a right to know!” Bellamy looks up at her angrily.

Lexa turns her fierce gaze on him, daring him to continue the argument. “No, they don’t. If we tell them, they will lose all hope of rescue.”

Murphy snorts. “Newsflash, we _have_ no hope of rescue! Did you hear that transmission?”

Voices start to rise in anger and yelling starts, until Lincoln stands up and yells “Hey!” When everyone quiets down, he continues to speak. “Lexa is right. If we tell the others, it will completely demoralize them. But we all need to agree on this. Let’s take a vote. Everyone who wants to keep it a secret, raise their hand.” Lexa, Lincoln, and Octavia raise their hands. “And everyone who doesn’t?” Bellamy and Murphy raise theirs hands. “Ok, it’s settled…”

“Wait, he didn’t vote.” Murphy points to Monty, who hunches down lower.

“It doesn’t matter to me, I will do whatever…” Monty stutters out.

“No, you have to vote! It’s not fair!”

Lincoln throws up his arms. “Fine. Monty, what do you think we should do?”

Monty sits quietly, thinking about it. “I think that at first we shouldn’t tell them. But if we can’t fix the transceiver or send out a signal…”

“So we tell no one. Understand?” Lexa glares at Murphy and Bellamy, making sure they get her point.

“What about Clarke?” Lincoln asks her.

“What about her?” Lexa’s face has turned to stone.

“Don’t you think we should tell her?” Octavia nods her head, agreeing with Lincoln.

Lexa takes a moment to think. “No. She was demoralized enough when we talked to the pilot and he told us how far off course we were. She’s the only doctor we have, we need her to keep her hope most of all. We tell no one, except for Raven. Monty, you’ll have to tell her so she can help you with the transceiver.” She stands up and brushes herself off, holding out her hand to Lincoln. “I will take first watch, you should rest. Tomorrow we have an early start.” Reluctantly, Lincoln hands her the gun, and she stalks away from the fire’s glow to climb a tree.

Bellamy and Murphy grumble at her departing figure, but they lie down and try to get comfortable. Lincoln sighs, watching his leader disappear, and then lays down, using his backpack as a pillow. Octavia scoots closer to him and puts her head on the other side of the backpack so they are laying head to head.

“Is she right? Should we really not tell Clarke?” She whispers to him.

Lincoln sighs. “Lexa is the best leader I have ever worked under. She always considers every side before making a decision, and she always puts duty before her emotions… I trust her, and she _has_ spent the most time with Clarke.”

“Clarke won’t forgive her for this. I don’t know her that well, but I know enough to know that Clarke will be so pissed…”

“I know. And I guarantee you that Lexa has considered all the consequences, including the backlash she will get from other survivors. But I agree, chaos could ensue if no one believes that they will be rescued. They will give up all hope for life, and stop surviving.” After a few quiet moments, Lincoln thinks she has fallen asleep, and he closes his eyes.

Octavia once again breaks the silence. “Will you teach me? Survival skills, I mean?”

“Of course, _Okteivia kom Skaikru_.”

“What does that mean?” Octavia lifts herself up to look down at him, upside down.

Lincoln smiles at her. “It means, Octavia of the Sky people, because you came crashing to Earth.” Octavia blushes and lies back down, trying to slow her racing heart. The long day of hiking soon catches up to her, however, and she soon falls asleep. 

* * *

“So Clarke, you gonna be able to sleep tonight? With lover girl out in the dark, scary jungle?”

Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven’s teasing. “She’s not my lover, Rae.”

“But you want her to be, right? You want to have hot, dirty sex with the _Commander_ , right?” Raven teases Clarke with a glint in her eyes. Clarke chokes on nothing, staring at Raven in shock. “I knew it!” Raven yells out.

“Why did you call her that?”

Raven looks at her in confusion. “Your lover? Probably because the eye fucking I have seen you guys…”

Clarke cuts her off. “No, ‘Commander’. Why did you call her that?”

Raven’s jaw drops. “Jeez, Doc, you work fast! Already getting into the kinky shit?”

“No!” Clarke shouts in surprise and blushes. “It’s her nickname… From the army. How did you know?”

Raven looks surprised. “I didn’t, but the way she struts around here ordering people about, I just nicknamed her that.” Raven sniggers. “I bet she’s the Commander all right, Commander of your-”

Clarke slaps a hand over Raven’s mouth. “I don’t need to hear however you are going to finish that sentence.” Raven licks her hand, and Clarke refuses to move. “I’m a doctor, remember? Someone licking my hand is nowhere near the grossest thing that’s ever happened to me. Now no more teasing me about Lexa, all right?” Raven huffs and nods her head, so Clarke removes her hand.

“My topics of conversation are severely limited, _since you won’t let me leave_.” Raven stares at Clarke, waiting for her to break, but Clarke just smiles sweetly at her. Raven sighs and looks away, catching sight of Gustus farther away in the tent. “So how is he? He looks like… like he’s dying.”

Clarke glares at her fiercely. “He’s not _dying_.”

“Clarke, he’s _yellow_.”

“His wound is infected. I gave him some antibiotics. He should be fine as soon as he fights off the infection.”

Raven puts a hand on Clarke’s arm, softly. “Not to be the pessimist, but what if they don’t? You said it yourself, they aren’t the antibiotics you need.”

“Then his body will shut down. But I’m not going to let that happen.”

Gustus moans, and Clarke moves over to him, wiping a damp cloth over his forehead and trying to soothe him.

“Is he in pain?” Raven asks, all too aware that she’s probably monopolizing the pain meds.

Clarke looks up at her, trying to comfort her. “He’s unconscious.” Suddenly, Gustus wakes up, thrashing from side to side.

“Clarke? What’s wrong with him?” Raven yells in distress.

“He’s having a seizure.” Clarke turns Gustus on his side and tries to hold him still, letting the violent tremors rock his body. After a few moments, the shaking slows and stops, so Clarke turns him back onto his back and wipes the spit from his mouth.

“Is he all right?”

Clarke wipes the sweat from her forehead and looks up at Raven. “His seizure stopped. He has a head wound; there might be cranial pressure or brain damage. That could have caused this.”

“Is there anything you can do for him?”

Clarke shakes her head. “Not here.” 

* * *

In the middle of the night, Lincoln wakes up instinctively. Looking around, he sees nothing amiss, and judging by the path of the moon, it’s the middle of the night. Careful not to wake Octavia with his movements, he stands up and stretches, then walks into the jungle. He relieves himself on a tree, then walks to the base of another nearby one and shakes it. “Why didn’t you wake me up to take the second half of watch?”

Seconds later, Lexa jumps down, landing lightly on her feet. The exhaustion is evident in the set of her shoulders as she hands him the gun. “I thought you needed the rest.”

Lincoln raises an eyebrow, although he knows she can’t see it in the darkness. “And what about you?”

“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways.”

* * *

_Lexa and the rest of her unit sat in the Command tent, talking to intelligence officers and their higher-ranking officers. Currently, they are all glaring at the Colonel in charge of the base._

_“We need to send in a rescue team_ now _. Every moment we wait decreases the likelihood that we will find her alive.” Anya, Lexa’s second lieutenant, tells him for the fifth time in the past hour._

_The Colonel gives her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Knight, but we can’t send in a team until we have more information. We can’t risk lives when we don’t know where she is or who captured her.”_

_Gustus slams his fist down in a rare show of anger. “We know exactly where she is, and exactly who has her.”_

_Lincoln is the next to speak. “Send us in. We’ll take the risk.”_

_The Colonel sighs and takes in the various emotions from the unit: anger, sadness, and guilt. He knows that nothing he can say will help ease their pain, but he is under orders, just as they are. “I’m sorry, I wish we could send you in, but we are finally making progress with coming to terms with this warlord. We can’t send in an armed force; that would take us right back to square one, and all the lives that have been lost trying to stabilize this region would be in vain. We sent a negotiator, now we just need to be patient.”_

_Before anyone else can protest, Lexa looks up from where she was staring at the table, her faintly red rimmed eyes the only sign of emotion on her face. “He’s right. There’s nothing more we can do at the moment. You should clean up and get some rest. As soon as we know anything, I will come get you.”_

_Indra, the most obedient of her unit, stands up first. “Yes, Heda.” Gustus gives Lexa a sympathetic look and squeezes her shoulder before he reluctantly follows Indra out of the tent._

_Lincoln, however, refuses to move and just glares at Lexa in anger. “You of all people should know that we can’t just sit back and_ wait _. There’s no telling what Nia will do to her! What she’s doing to her_ right now _!” A flash of pain shoots through Lexa’s eyes, but she turns her head away quickly._

_Sensing that her closest friend is trying to master her emotions, Anya takes over for her. “Private Wolf! That was a direct order from your commanding officer. You are dismissed.” She gets up and stands behind him, waiting for him to leave. Lincoln shoots one last dirty look at Lexa before he storms from the tent, closely followed by Anya._

_Once everyone has left, the Colonel addresses Lexa. “Captain Woods, I sent my best negotiator, I’m sure in no time he will be back, and then…”_

_A knock on the tent post interrupts the Colonel, and an older gentleman walks in with a large wooden box and a sorrowful expression on his face._

_“Ah, Smith, that was quick. Tell me, what…”_

_Seeing the look on the negotiator’s face, Lexa holds out her to stop her superior officer. Ignoring his look of incredulity, she stands and walks toward the negotiator, each step feeling as if she is walking through quick sand._

_“Nia gave this to me for you.” The negotiator gives her a nod and hands Lexa the box. “She said that she would never make peace with American pigs.”_

_Lexa can barely breath as she opens the box and wills herself to remain standing as she stares at the severed head of the missing member of her unit: Costia Rosewood._

* * *

**Day 2**

            Someone roughly shaking her shoulder awakens Clarke. “Ugh,” she groans, “five more minutes.”

            “Clarke, wake up! They’re back!” Wells excitedly yells at her.

            Clarke jolts up and looks around in confusion. Gustus is still unconscious next to her, and Raven is smiling at her from the other side of the tent.

            “Good morning sleeping beauty, I thought you were going to sleep away the whole morning.”

            Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven’s teasing words and takes Wells’ proffered hand to pull herself up. Stepping out into the bright light, she finds that it is indeed well past mid-morning. She had been so worried about Gustus last night that it had taken her quite a while to fall asleep, so she’s not surprised she slept so late. Catching sight of the large group of people gathered in a circle, Clarke makes her way over and stands in the back next to Bellamy and Octavia.

            Lexa stands in the middle of the group, not yelling but speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone stands silently, enraptured by her presence. “Yesterday, Lincoln, Bellamy, Octavia, Murphy, Monty, and I hiked up the mountain to try to pick up a signal with the transceiver. Unfortunately, we were unable to pick up a signal to send out a message.” Several groans and cries of disbelief pierce the group, but Lexa continues on, barely pausing. “We aren’t giving up hope of rescue!” Lexa looks around, making eye contact with everyone and sharing her strength with them. “Monty and Raven are going to try to boost the signal of the transceiver.” Lexa looks at Monty pointedly, and he speaks up shyly.

“We need more electronics. Cell phones, laptops, tablets, iPods, batteries, wires, anything you have.” Despite all the people staring at him, he soon gains confidence. “I’ll need you to bring me everything you have to the tent next to the medical tent. Then, some people will have to go through the luggage and the wreckage for more materials. I can show you what to look for.”

Sensing that Monty has finished, Lexa takes over once more. “We don’t know how long we will be here, so we need to start rationing our food and water. Lincoln will be in charge of that. We also need to prepare tarps to collect fresh water the next time it rains, and we should start looking for other sources of food, especially fish.” Lexa catches Clarke’s eye and pauses for a brief, almost unnoticeable second. “We will need everyone’s help, so we should split into groups. Monty will work on electronics, Lincoln will work on the food, Bellamy will work on the water, and Octavia will be in charge of sorting through the last of the luggage.” Lexa steps back behind the others and let’s them start their own speeches and instructions. She catches Clarke’s eye once again and quickly jerks her head to the side before walking away from the group towards the jungle away from prying eyes.

Clarke catches up to Lexa and briefly brushes her fingers along Lexa’s free hand. “Hey,” she nervously says, not sure how they stand after their last encounter.

Lexa stops when they are amongst the trees and turns to smile at her, nervous as well. “Hey ya back.”

            Clarke laughs a little and smiles back, and before an awkward silence can stretch between them, she reaches out towards Lexa’s shoulder, gently prodding it. “How’s your shoulder?”

            Lexa simply shrugs her good shoulder once. “Hurts.”

            Clarke rolls her eyes and tries to fight back the smile. “Well, traipsing through the jungle will do that.”

            Lexa’s face sobers, and Clarke removes her hands from Lexa’s body, taking a slight step back from her. “I need to tell you something.”

            “OK.” Clarke gazes into her eyes, searching for any hint of what is to come, but she can’t breach Lexa’s stoic mask.

            “When we were out in the jungle…” Lexa pauses for a moment. She knows that they had decided not to tell Clarke about the transmission, but it’s hard to lie to Clarke when she’s staring at Lexa with big, trusting blue eyes. “While we were on the hike a jaguar attacked us.”

            Clarke’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “That’s it? The big reveal? Lexa, we were already attacked by gorillas. Wait, is everyone OK? No one looked hurt, but…”

            “Murphy shot it.” Lexa says quickly, not wanting Clarke to worry any further. “He found Gustus’ gun in the forest. Don’t worry, Lincoln has it now.”

            “That’s good, I don’t trust Murphy.” Clarke looks at Lexa, and even though she appears calm, she still feels like there’s something else. “Anything else?”

            Lexa swallows and shakes her head. “I wanted to tell you so that you wouldn’t wander off into the forest anymore. It’s too dangerous, and you’re too valuable to us.”

            Clarke lets it go, figuring that Lexa will tell her when she’s ready. “Oh really now, is that an order, _Commander_?”

            Lexa shivers and unable to resist, she drops her voice. “Do I need to make it one, _Klark_?”

Clarke pretend pouts in an attempt to hide how much Lexa saying her name in that manner affects her. “So you’re still allowed to wander off into the dangerous woods whenever you feel like it, but I’m not?”

            Lexa smirks at Clarke, allowing a small smile to form. “If I remember correctly, you almost got us killed by a gorilla.”

            Clarke rolls her eyes and gives her good arm a playful shove. “You were the one who tried to kill it with an itty bitty knife! Speaking of, we really should talk about your hero complex.” Lexa freezes, and Clarke gently takes her hand. “All this ‘leave me, save yourself, I’m going to walk into the dangerous jungle and save the world’ bullshit has to stop. We need you too, you know.”

            Lexa is frozen, staring at her feet. Softly, so softly that Clarke can barely hear her, she mutters, “I’m no hero, Clarke.”

            Clarke takes a step closer, entering the brunette’s personal space. “Lexa, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I’ve seen you save people’s lives, care for the wounded, and risk your own life trying to get us rescued.”

            Lexa looks up into Clarke’s deep blue eyes. “What good is all that if I can’t even protect those I care about...” Clarke’s face softens, and realizing what she has said, Lexa steps away from her and speaks before Clarke can say anything. “I should go check on Gustus.”

            Clarke sighs at the now closed-off brunette, but nods her head and leads the way towards the tent. “I took the shrapnel out and stitched him up. He woke up for a few moments during the surgery, and then yesterday for a bit.”

            Lexa nods and lengthens her strides, increasing their pace so that she can get there faster. When she throws open the tent flap, she sees Raven napping and Gustus still unconscious, but this time looking very ill.

            Lexa kneels next to Gustus and takes his hand. When she sees the pallor of his skin and feels the heat radiating from his body, she shoots a glare at Clarke. She tries to keep her voice down not to wake Raven, but the anger in it is still evident. “You didn’t tell me that his wound is infected.”

            “I didn’t want you to worry. I gave him antibiotics, and he should fight off the infection soon.”

            Lexa frowns but keeps her attention on Gustus, murmuring in Trigedaslang. Clarke sighs and moves to leave, but instead she meets Lincoln.

            “How is he?” Lincoln whispers, trying not to wake Raven or disturb Lexa.

            “I took the shrapnel out and stopped the bleeding. I gave him antibiotics for an infection.”

            Lincoln glances at Lexa then returns his gaze to Clarke. “How is he really?”

            Clarke sighs. “It’s touch and go. But I’m optimistic; he seems like a strong man.”

            Lincoln gives her a small smile and squeezes her shoulder. “Thank you, Clarke. For all you’ve done.” Clarke returns his smile and tells him that she was just doing her job, and then leaves the tent to give the two soldiers their privacy.

            Deciding that she could use some more water for Gustus, Clarke heads towards the tent made from sticks and tarp under which they have been storing food and water. She moves to pick up two bottles, but a hand reaches out to stop her.

            “Ah ah ah, Missy. We’re rationing now, only one bottle.”

            Clarke rolls her eyes and mock glares at Wells. “Really? You’re going to limit how much water the doctor gives her patients?”

            Octavia is nearby looking through a suitcase, and she laughs. “Don’t let her fool you, she’s using it quench her thirst for a certain broody brunette.” Smirking at Clarke, she sends her a wink. “I saw you two walk into the jungle together when we got back.”

            Clarke blushes bright red and looks around, but luckily no one else seems to have heard. Wells, however, is frowning at her in confusion. “What is she talking about?”

            “Nothing! She’s just joking.” Clarke glares at Octavia, who smirks but goes back work.

            “OK…” Wells draws out the word, sensing that he is missing something.

Deciding to get back at Octavia, Clarke ignores Wells and smiles sweetly at Octavia. “By the way, Octavia, where’s Atom? Have you seen him since you got back?”

Octavia rolls her eyes and glares back at Clarke, but only seconds later, her glare turns into a smirk. “I haven’t seen him since we’ve been back. But after the hike, I might just have to get my own stud in uniform. Atom has a pretty face, but he can’t compete with a soldier who can hike all day… They have quite the… _stamina_.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at the obvious innuendo and tries to ignore Octavia’s teasing. Wells still has a confused look on his face, but suddenly it dawns on him and his face falls. “You and Lexa? Are you…”

“No!” Clarke denies. “We aren’t… anything. Gustus is one of her close friends, so we’ve seen a lot of each other.” Wells sighs in relief and Octavia snorts, which Clarke chooses to ignore.

Lowering his voice, Wells murmurs, “So how is he? Gustus?”

Clarke sighs and her face falls. “Not good. He needs stronger antibiotics.”

Wells frowns at her. “What about all the stuff I got from the luggage?”

“It’s for ear infections, foot fungus, yeast infection… It’s not enough.”

“Clarke, we went through everything already. There’s no stronger antibiotics…”

Clarke bites her lip and looks away from Wells, knowing he’s right.

* * *

After checking on Gustus, Lincoln left him in Lexa’s hands to get started on finding food. He had already sent people out to inventory and collect what remained of the food, and Harper already had handed out all the prepackaged meals. The fuselage was still full of bodies, and so he had left that chore of going through the rest of the wreckage for food for himself.

A storm is gathering on the horizon and the interior of what remains of the plane is dark, but luckily he had thought to bring a flashlight. All of the luggage has already been removed, so he decides to just check over the flight attendant and storage areas of the plane. At this point, even packaged airline peanuts would be helpful.

As he starts making his way carefully through the wreckage towards the interior of the plane, he hears a loud noise. He shines his flashlight towards the sound and right into Murphy’s eyes.

“Geez, Rambo, get that light outta my eyes.”

Lincoln rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath of relief that it hadn’t been anything worse. “What are you doing in here?”

“Trick or treating.” Murphy grins spitefully, holding up a chocolate bar.

“We’re rationing all the food. I came in here to get whatever was left.” Lincoln tells him with a hard stare.

“Snooze you lose.”

Lincoln rolls his eyes and stalks towards Murphy. Seeing that he only has one chocolate bar, he decides to let him have it rather than fight with him.

As Lincoln starts shoving snack bags into a backpack, Murphy plops himself down into a seat and slouches down into a more comfortable position. “So, we’re rationing food, are we also rationing the medicine?” When Lincoln looks at him with confusion, Murphy explains. “Well, _we_ know that rescue isn’t coming, at least not for a long time. How many pills did Clarke find? And how many is she already using on a guy that can’t be saved?” Lincoln looks away and goes back to his task, unable to meet Murphy’s gaze because he knows that part of what he is saying has merit. “We have to start thinking more long-term. I expected it of the others, but not you. All these people are still back in civilization, but you were a solider, I know you’ve been here before.”

Lincoln looks up at Murphy with a frown. “Been where?”

Murphy chuckles and smiles. “The wild.”

* * *

Back on the beach, Maya is going through the luggage, unable to just sit still. Seeing that she is trying to lift a heavy suitcase, Jasper runs over and takes it from her.

“Here, let me take that. Isn’t there some pregnancy rule about no heavy lifting?”

Maya smiles sweetly at him. “Thank you. Are you sure you got it?” Jasper’s thin frame shakes under the weight of the suitcase, but he nods vigorously and hauls it a little bit away from the pile of suitcases and under a nearby tent so that Maya can start sorting through it.

Jasper drops the heavy suitcase with a grunt and tries to catch his breath subtly, but Maya still giggles at him. Trying to get her attention off him, he asks her, “How’s the baby? Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, I think everything’s fine. He’s been moving around like normal.”

“Good, that’s great, I’m glad.” After a moment, Jasper works up the courage to ask her, “Was your husband on the flight? Boyfriend?”

Maya blushes and looks out at the approaching storm. “I don’t have a husband, or a boyfriend. It’s just me and the baby.” When Jasper looks up at her in surprise, Maya tries to act casual. “I know I know, what am I going to do with a baby, alone, at my age? But I couldn’t bring myself to…”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant at all!” Jasper rushes out with a smile. “I was just surprised, you know, that a woman as pretty as you was single.”

Maya blushes at Jasper’s compliment, and he returns her sweet smile with one of his own, before dragging another suitcase within her reach so that she can keep looking through them for supplies. Off in the distance, thunder booms.

* * *

Raven was happy because Clarke had finally let her move around. Mostly that consisted of crutching to the tent right next to the medical tent so she could work with Monty on the transceiver, but that was still better than nothing. Since Clarke was still forcing her to keep her leg elevated, she was thinking of setting up a bed in here for herself so that she could work on the transceiver as much as possible.

A flash of lightning races through the sky outside, and Raven can hear the sound of the wind picking up. People start running around outside yelling, no doubt preparing to collect the fresh water that is about to fall from the sky.

Monty had brought her every electronic they had found so far, but currently he was helping to ensure that all the luggage was dry and under tents so that nothing electrical still stuck in the luggage would be damaged.

Raven starts taking apart an iPad and fiddling with the wires, not wanting to really start working on anything without Monty but unable to sit still. When she hears low voices from the tent next door, she knows that she shouldn’t listen, but she can’t help herself; she’s been extremely bored for the past few days. She catches bits and pieces of a conversation between Lincoln and Lexa, but suddenly the rain starts and drowns out their conversation.

Monty and Clarke burst into the tent in an attempt to escape the rain, startling Raven from where she is lying on some airline cushions near the tent side adjacent to the medical tent.

“Everything OK, Raven?” Clarke asks as she starts to ring out her wet hair.

“Yeah, fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Good. Oh, Monty, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how are you?”

Monty has already busied himself looking at the iPad Raven was fiddling with previously, but when he processes Clarke’s question he looks at her somewhat puzzled. “I’m fine? Why do you ask?”

“Well, Lexa told me what happened-”

“She told you what happened?” Monty squeaks out.

“-with the jaguar attack, and I know she and Lincoln can be pretty intense, so I just wanted to make sure that you were OK.”

Monty exhales in relief that he didn’t blow the secret to Clarke. Clarke looks at him in confusion, and he realizes that she asked him a question. “Oh, I’m fine.”

* * *

“Lex, you should eat.” Lincoln holds out a package of peanuts and some trail mix for her, but she doesn’t take it.

“I’m not hungry.”

Lincoln shoves it right under nose, refusing to take no for an answer. Lexa could be so stubborn when she wanted to be. “Eat anyways.”

Lexa gives Lincoln a frustrated look but takes the food and opens it, eating it slowly.

“You know you can’t do anything to help him if you don’t take care of yourself, Lex.”

Lexa closes her eyes, trying to rein in her emotions. The last few days had been trying, and with the events of the week prior on top of that, she felt like she was losing her normal control. “Apparently I can’t take care of anyone no matter what I do, so why does it matter, Linc? We wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t…” Lexa’ voice chokes up and she stops, focusing instead on stopping her tears from falling.

In all the years Lincoln had served under Lexa, he had never seen her look so broken. Losing Costia had been hard on all of them since they had known each other for years, but for Lexa…“Lexa, that wasn’t your fault. You know that. We all know that. The only person responsible for this is Nia.”

* * *

_“Captain Woods, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work like that. We can’t just let-”_

_Lexa glares at the Colonel, rising from her feet to put her hands on his desk and stand over him. “You_ can _and you_ will. _Her mother moved back to her childhood home in Australia years ago. This is what she would want.”_

_The Colonel shakes his head slowly. “I know you and your unit are close, but you don’t know that. Without express written permission, Private Rosewood must be buried in the United States with full military honors. We will delay the funeral until her family can get there, but beyond that there’s nothing we can do.”_

_Slowly, Lexa reaches into her pocket and pulls out a letter, slamming it onto the table. When the Colonel looks at her confused, she dips her head towards the piece of paper and then sits back down in front of his desk, crossing her legs and arms to wait._

_The Colonel sighs and picks up the letter. His eyebrows rise in surprise, and he looks up at Lexa, but she coldly tells him “Keep reading.” When he has finished, he carefully folds it and hands it back to her._

_“You know I could court marshal you for this. Fraternizing with an officer under your command...”_

_Lexa ignores his comment. ”Nothing happened. We never acted on our feelings.”_

_The Colonel fixes her with a hard stare. “You two had mutual romantic feelings for each other and didn’t transfer her to another unit?”_

_“We worked well as a team, and our feelings never interfered with our work. Technically, we did nothing wrong. So should I make the arrangements for my team and I to go to Australia?”_

_The Colonel sighs and nods his head. Without another word, Lexa stands up and strides from the room. Just as she reaches the door, he calls out to her. “Captain Woods.” Lexa stops and turns, standing at attention. “I read the reports… There was nothing you could have done.”_

_Lexa gives a brief nod of her head. “Is that all, sir?”_

_“I’m sorry for your loss.”_

_Lexa swallows hard, briefly dips her head, and strides out of the tent to meet her waiting team._

_Anya is the first to break the silence. “What happened?”_

_“We’re going to Australia. I already made the arrangements. We leave tomorrow at 0600.” Gustus and Indra nod and go to pack their bags, never much for useless words._

_Lincoln takes a step towards Lexa and lowers his voice. “Lex… I’m sorry for what I said in the tent, I didn’t...”_

_Lexa holds up her hand and gives him a brief yet sorrowful smile. “It’s OK, Linc. I know you were just upset.” Lincoln gives her a grateful smile, still looking regretful, and then follows Indra and Gustus, leaving Lexa lone with Anya._

_Anya fixes Lexa with her piercing gaze. “What did you say to convince him?”_

_Lexa turns towards her tent, not wanting to have this conversation. “I showed him the letter.”_

_Anya grabs Lexa’s shoulder and yanks her around. “Lexa, what the hell? This could ruin your career!”_

_Lexa fixes her best friend with a fierce look and steps towards her, growling, “I. Don’t. Care. This is what she wanted, and I’m not going to ignore her last wish. I already failed her once, I’m not going to do it again.”_

_“You didn’t fail her, and she wouldn’t want you to throw away your career over this!” Anya gives Lexa a sympathetic look and goes to say something else, but Lexa breaks free from her grasp and storms away towards her living quarters to pack her bags._

* * *

            “ _Heda_ …” Gustus moans his voice raspy and eyes blinking slowly as he wakes up.

“Gustus.” Lexa gasps, surprised that he has woken up. “How are you?” Gustus groans in pain and tries to sit up, but Lexa puts her hand on his shoulder to hold him down. “Lincoln, go get Clarke, _now_.” Lincoln stands up and runs out of the tent as fast as he can, calling out for Clarke. Lexa lifts Gustus’ head up with one hand and holds up her water bottle to his mouth to give him some water. He coughs a little and Lexa soothes him, wiping the drops from his mouth. “Shhhh, take it easy.”

“Lexa…” Gustus coughs again and breathes deep. “Lexa, my coat pocket…”

Lexa looks around and finding his jacket pocket, she starts looking through them. Coming up empty, she looks at him for further instruction, but he is frowning at her.

“It was in there, I know it was.” He starts patting his pant pockets and relaxes when he feels something in it. Pulling out the dog tags and the braid, he hands them to Lexa.

Lexa freezes when she sees what he’s holding, knowing what it is. She starts to panic and drops his hand.

“Lexa…” Gustus pleads with her.

“No… I…” Lexa’s breathing increases and she stands up to leave, but Gustus stops her when he tries to sit up but instead his body starts jerking uncontrollably.

“Gustus?” Lexa cries out, confused and scared.

“Dammit!” Clarke yells as she comes running into the tent, closely followed by Lincoln. She avoids Gustus’ flailing limbs and turns him on his side as he shakes. After a moment, his tremors seize, and Clarke rolls him over onto his back. His breathing is heavy despite his unconscious state, so Clarke lifts up his eyelids to check his pupils. Everything seems normal, but when she starts examining his abdomen, she starts swearing.

Lexa fixes her intense gaze on Clarke. “Clarke, what is wrong? And tell the truth this time, I know you glossed over it.”

Frustrated that Gustus isn’t getting better despite her best efforts and angry at Lexa calling her out about lying when she knows Lexa lied to her this morning, Clarke returns the hard stare Lexa is giving her. “The antibiotics aren’t working. His abdomen is rigid, meaning the infection is starting to spread throughout his body. His fever is high, and I think he has swelling on his brain, because that’s his second seizure.” Looking back and forth between the devastated look on Lincoln’s face and the cold, stoic one on Lexa’s, Clarke mumbles an excuse about getting water and storms out of the tent into the pouring rain.

A few seconds later, Lexa gets up and angrily storms out of the tent after Clarke. “Is there anything left we can do for him?”

Clarke glares at Lexa over her shoulder. “If there was, don’t you think I’d be doing it already?”

“Will he suffer?”

“What?” Clarke looks at Lexa, shocked that she could so calmly ask that.

“Will it be quick?” Lexa enunciates her words, raising her voice to be heard over the pouring rain they are standing in.

“No. It’ll take three days, maybe four.” Clarke’s anger dissipates to horror as she sees where Lexa’s line of thought is going, but her anger quickly comes back full force. Just yesterday she had her hands in Gustus’ abdomen trying to _save_ him, and now Lexa was thinking about killing him? She would have given _anything_ to have saved someone she loved years ago. “I know we talked about not being the hero, but wow you switch gears quickly, now you want to _murder_ your friend? Because that’s what this would be! Lexa, we aren’t _savages_!”

Several emotions flit across Lexa’s face, unbidden, until she gains control once more and forces her stoic mask on her face. “I will not allow my friend to suffer needlessly just to prolong the inevitable. If that makes me a savage, then so be it. We are what we are.”

Clarke takes a step closer, crowding Lexa’s personal space, so close now that she can see the water droplets in her eyelashes and the rivulets of water streaming down her face. “And if rescue comes tomorrow, how will you feel?”

Lexa meets Clarke’s angry stare and leans closer, quietly growling, “That’s my burden to bear.”

* * *

_The five of them are crowded into a black SUV they had rented, with Gustus driving, Lexa in the front seat, and Indra, Anya, and Lincoln in the back. For the past three hours, no one has said a word, not even commenting about the beautiful scenery that they are passing by. The GPS on the car speaks, telling them to take a right, leading them onto a long dirt road cutting through the middle of the farm. Lexa tenses as they approach the small farmhouse at the end of the road. Gustus puts the car in park and they sit in silence, waiting on Lexa. After a moment, she opens the door and steps out, straightening her dress uniform before she strides toward the door with her unit in tow. They reach the door, and Lexa raises her hand to knock, but she freezes before her fist hits the wood. After a moment of Lexa’s fist hovering above the door, Gustus puts his hand on her shoulder and knocks softly with the other. Lexa straightens up and takes a deep breath, gathering herself._

_A cheerful looking woman opens the door with a smile, wiping flour on the apron tied around her waist. When she sees who is at her door, however, her smile drops. She looks around at the faces that she recognizes from pictures, but not at the one she wants to see the most. At the somber look on all their faces, she knows what has happened. Tears well up in her eyes, and she whimpers a “no,” as she sinks toward the floor._

_Lexa quickly steps forward and catches the woman underneath her arms, holding back her own tears and pulling the woman to her feet. “Mrs. Rosewood, I am so sorry…” The woman cries harder and clutches tightly to Lexa, who can no longer hold back anymore as one tear slips down her face._

* * *

Clarke storms into the medical tent interrupting what appears to be an intense conversation between Monty and Raven. Raven mumbles “that’s fucked up” and gives Clarke a sympathetic glance.

Clarke is so angry that she starts pacing, ignoring their conversation. “You know what’s really fucked up? Lexa wants to _kill_ Gustus!” Monty’s face blanches, and Raven winces. “Rescue could come tomorrow! This is insane.” Clarke continues her pacing and mumbles angrily. Raven and Monty share a look, and Monty quietly slips out of the tent, leaving Raven to deal with the angry blonde.

“Clarke…” Raven reaches out for her but can’t reach her from she is sitting with her leg propped up. “Clarke!” Raven yells at her, more forcefully this time.

Clarke freezes and looks at Raven in confusion. “What, Rae? I’m sorry, is your leg hurting? Do you need something?”

Raven quickly shakes her head. “No, Clarke. I’m fine. Look, I know you don’t want to hear this but… Maybe Lexa’s right.”

Clarke looks stunned. “Excuse me? You’re siding with her?”

Raven reaches out and grabs Clarke’s hand, squeezing it hard so that she can’t pull away. “Clarke, there are no sides. I don’t like it any more than you do but… He’s suffering. From what I have heard, he’s not going to make it unless we get rescued today, and even then, you can’t guarantee how long it will take to get him to a hospital.”

“He still has chance though, Raven! I’m a doctor; I can’t just give up on him! I took an oath to do no harm!”

Raven sighs. “I know, but in trying to save him you might be causing more harm. Gustus is suffering, Lexa and Lincoln are suffering… Even if he gets to a hospital, you told me he might have brain damage…”

“This is a man’s life!”

“And what happens when we don’t get rescued, and he dies anyways? Clarke, if rescue hasn’t come by now, it isn’t going to suddenly just stumble upon us! They obviously have exhausted searching where they thought we were and now have to start all over. The ocean is a big place! Monty and I are going to work on the transceiver as fast as we can, but it’s going to take a few days. I know it’s hard to accept, but…”

“So I just let a man be _murdered_? I can’t accept that, Raven.”

Raven sighs. “Clarke, have you asked him what he wants?”

“He’s delirious with the fever and barely conscious, he’s not in the position to be able to make that kind of decision.” Clarke glares at Raven, daring her to contradict her. Raven, having been filled in by Monty and knowing that rescue won’t come in time for Gustus, understands where Lexa is coming from. Both women stare stubbornly at each other, refusing to change their minds, until Clarke huffs and breaks their gaze. “I’m going to go sit with Gustus.”

Raven sighs as she watches Clarke storm from the tent, wishing that they could just tell her about the signal because that would make everything so much easier.

* * *

After Clarke had angrily stormed into the tent, Monty had left as soon as he could, despite the rain. Raven could handle an angry Clarke, and he was awful at keeping secrets. If he had stayed, he most likely would have let something slip about the transmission.

Fortunately for Monty, the rain stops as quickly as it started, and he is only halfway wet. As he is shaking out his shaggy wet hair, he accidentally bumps into Harper.

“I am so sorry, are you OK? I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Monty asks in concern.

“Oh, I’m fine! I was a little too eager,” Harper chuckles, “I want to go back out and look for my dog, Vincent.”

Monty’s eyes widen. “You’re going into the jungle? Alone?”

Harper smiles. “Yeah, I haven’t seen Vincent since we landed. I found some of his food, so I have been laying out trails of it leading back to the beach in hopes that he will find them and come here.”

“You can’t go out in the jungle alone, it’s not safe!” Monty looks somewhat panicked, having already witnessed some of the dangers living in the jungle.

Harper frowns but then smiles at him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to come with me to protect me.” She loops her arm through Monty’s and drags him off towards the jungle, despite his protests.

Harper strolls through the jungle arm in arm with Monty, dropping food every so often. “I feel like Hansel and Gretel dropping breadcrumbs so they can find their way home.”

“Hansel and Gretel were captured by a witch and were almost eaten.” Monty whines, still reluctant to be out in the jungle alone.

Harper giggles and continues pulling Monty along, until she hears a loud rustling in the bushes. Harper freezes, not wanting to scare her dog away, and Monty is petrified. “Vincent? Here boy!” Harper calls out.

Monty slaps a hand over her mouth, quieting her, but it’s too late. A loud growl comes from nearby, and Monty grabs her hand and takes off running. Together, they race back to the beach, bursting out into the sunlight panting for breath.

“I told you it wasn’t safe!” Monty pants out, while Harper just looks at him in alarm.

“What was that?” Monty just shakes his head, and Harper looks down at the sand, downtrodden. “Vincent is probably gone, isn’t he?”

Monty surprises Harper by wrapping her in a hug. “Don’t give up hope yet, he could still be out there. I will help you keep looking for him.”

Harper squeezes him back and then releases him, wiping away a stray tear. “OK, but tomorrow. I don’t want to run into whatever that thing was again. Plus, I think it’s getting dark.”

Monty looks up to see that she is in fact right; the sun is about to set over the ocean. Little do they know that it will be the last sunset for one of their fellow survivors.

* * *

Darkness has fallen, so Lincoln decided to build a fire outside the medical tent in order to provide some light and keep his hands busy. Lexa and Clarke haven’t left Gustus’ side, but it is painful for him to sit still and watch his close friend die, unable to do anything. Plus, Lexa refuses to take care of herself and Clarke refuses to leave, so someone needs to heat some food up for all three of them. Fortunately, there are some prewrapped sausages from the airplane that shouldn’t taste too bad roasted over the fire.

Just as Lincoln is preparing to rub two sticks together, Murphy saunters up.

“Need a light?” Murphy asks with a smug grin.

“No, I don’t. What are you doing here?”

Murphy tosses the lighter at Lincoln’s feet anyways, and Lincoln uses it, not too prideful to take advantage of the lighter. “Besides coming for the food you have under lock and key?” Lincoln rolls his eyes, but sticks another sausage onto the stick for Murphy. “I came here to thank you.”

Lincoln looks quizzically at Murphy. “I’m busy, so if you could just say what you came here to say, do it. I’m not in the mood for any of your games.”

Murphy smirks cockily at Lincoln, ready to antagonize him. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m thankful to you for taking the gun away from me.”

Lincoln is even more confused over Murphys behavior. “Lexa was the one who took it from you, not me. Besides, it’s Gustus’ gun, not yours.”

Murphy holds up his hands in defense of Lincoln’s anger. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t want to be the one with that gun right now. We know how this ends, for your friend. I’m just glad I don’t have to make that decision.”

Lincoln looks stunned, and Murphy laughs cruelly at the man before grabbing a cooked sausage from him and leaving Lincoln alone at the fire with his thoughts. 

* * *

Lexa hadn’t left Gustus’ side since her fight with Clarke. While she knows that she didn’t cause his seizure, she had reacted badly when he was just trying to help her. She didn’t know if or when he would wake up lucid again, and she wanted to be there if he did.

Lexa looks up to watch Clarke’s face as she focuses on dabbing a wet cloth on Gustus’ sweaty forehead in an attempt to soothe him in whatever way she can. When Clarke looks up to meet her eyes, Lexa looks down, avoiding her accusing gaze. They haven’t spoken a word to each other since their fight in the rain, and Lexa doesn’t blame her. Clarke is a doctor; it’s her job to try to fix everyone, so Lexa understands why Clarke is so angry with her. Lexa, however, has fought in wars and knows that this is something that no one can fix.  

Clarke tries to drip some water into Gustus’ mouth, but he slowly wakes up and turns his head away, groaning at the pain. “ _Leksa_ …” he moans.

Lexa squeezes his hand and scoots closer to her friend. “I’m here, _Gostos_.”

Gustus’ eyes finally focus on Lexa, and he forces a stern look onto his face. “Lexa, you have to take them.” Gustus reaches into his pocket, looking for the dog tags and braid, but Lexa squeezes his hand to gain his attention.

Lexa pulls a chain out of her pocket and slips it over her neck, right next to her own dog tags. “Thank you for keeping them safe, Gustus.” Lexa gives Clarke a pointed look, and Clarke mumbles some words about going to get water, sensing that this is a private conversation and leaving the tent.

Gustus watches Clarke leave and then returns his gaze to Lexa, a small smile on his face. “That one is trouble.” Gustus coughs and Lexa tenses as his coughing spell continues for a few moments. When he has finally caught his breath, he gets back to the conversation that he has been trying to have with Lexa for a week. Too bad it took him dying to force her to talk to him. “Lexa, how long have we worked together?”

Lexa chuckles and shifts her weight off her knees and onto her butt so that she can cross her legs in front of her. “Too long, Gustus.”

Gustus smiles at her but it turns somber. “I need you to promise me something, before I die.” Lexa looks up and shakes her head in protest, but he speaks before she can. “Don’t even try to lie to me; I know I’m dying, and I know what you’re thinking. Thank you, Lexa.” Lexa clenches her jaw, trying to control her emotions, and Gustus sighs, wishing that the circumstances could be different; Lexa did not deserve the pain that the world had put on her. She didn’t deserve what he was asking of her either, but he knew she would still do it.

* * *

_The funeral had been held in the morning, only two days after Lexa and her unit had arrived in Australia. It had been small and simple, yet everyone who had come had deeply cared for Costia. She was buried in the family cemetery, right next to her grandparents._

_Everyone had left, but Lexa had found herself unable to, so she stood in silence and watched them lower the coffin into the ground and cover it with dirt, slowly but surely. No one had disturbed her, until midafternoon._

_“Did she tell you why she chose the Army?”_

_Lexa turns her head to see Costia’s mother walking up to her, holding a bottle of water, which she hands to Lexa. When Lexa shakes her head, Mrs. Rosewood continues speaking. “Her father and I moved to America for his job before she was born. She spent the first few years of her life there, until he passed away and I moved us back here. Once she got older though… I couldn’t afford to put her through college, and she loved learning. So, she moved back to the States where she has her citizenship, and she got a scholarship from the Army to study languages. She figured that after she put in her time in the Army, she could travel the world.” The woman sighs and wipes away a few tears._

_After a moment, Lexa breaks the silence. “She was too good for this world. She was always trying to make friends wherever we went, be that playing with the children or trying to learn more about people’s cultures and beliefs.” Lexa smiles at the memory of Costia in the midst of a horde of children trying to teach them how to play soccer._

_Costia’s mother chuckles. “That sounds just like her.” After a moment, she steps closer to the brunette and wraps her arm around Lexa’s shoulders. “I know we just met a few days ago, but I feel like I already know you. She used to mail me letters, and she talked about you in every single one of them.” Lexa freezes and the older woman gives her a knowing look. “A mother always knows when her daughter’s in love. Yes, I knew she cared for you. She cared for all of you, but you especially.”_

_Lexa takes a shuddering breath, trying to hold back a sob. “I cared for her as well. I’m sorry that I never got to tell her how much. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t… couldn’t bring her back to you.”_

_Mrs. Rosewood wraps Lexa in a hug as they both start crying. “This is not your fault. Costia knew the risks; she still chose this life. From everything she has told me about you, I know that you did everything you could for her.” The older woman steps back and gently takes Lexa’s face between her hands, using her thumbs to wipe the tears away. “She knew how much you cared for her, even if you never got to really say it.”_  

* * *

“You cannot blame yourself for this.” Lexa looks down, and Gustus squeezes her hand, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “You could not control this any more than you could control what happened to Costia. You didn’t crash the plane; you didn’t capture and kill Costia. Promise me that you will forgive yourself, and not let this weigh on you.”

Lexa vibrant green eyes meet Gustus’ deep brown, and she nods her head once. “I promise.” Lexa calls out to Lincoln, and he comes rushing into the tent, worried that something is wrong.

When Lincoln sees that Gustus is awake, he smiles, but upon closer inspection, he can see the intense pain in his eyes. Not knowing what to say, Lincoln takes Gustus’ free hand in his own.

“Take care of her for me.”

Lincoln locks gazes with Gustus and nods his head, and the two smile when Lexa scoffs that she can take care of herself. Lincoln doesn’t know what else to say, so he reaches into his the back of his waistband and pulls out the gun to hand it to Lexa, but she shakes her head, pulling her knife from her sheath instead.

“You should go, Lincoln. I will be fine.” Gustus murmurs. Lincoln fights back tears and leans forward to press a kiss to Gustus’ forehead, sending him one last smile through his tears before standing up and leaving the tent.

Lexa slides her hand onto Gustus’ ribs, counting them so that she hit him straight in the heart with as little pain as possible. When she has located the correct spot, she places the knife tip on his chest and leans forward over him, pressing her forehead to his.

“ _Ste yuj_.” Gustus tells her, brown eyes meeting green as he nods his head at her.

“ _Yu gonplei ste odon_.” Lexa whispers, just as she quickly slides the knife between his ribs. Gustus gasps once and then goes completely still as the life leaves his body. Lexa sits up and removes her knife with a gasp, clenching her jaw.

At that moment, Lexa hears Clarke yelling at Lincoln outside, and then she bursts into the tent. “What did you do?” She yells at Lexa.

Lexa wipes the blood off her knife on Gustus’ pants and uses two fingers to gently close his eyes. She then gently slips the dog tags off from around his neck and drapes them over her own before meeting Clarke’s eyes. “What needed to be done.” Clarke only stares at Lexa in horror as Lexa pushes herself to her feet and walks past Clarke and out of the tent, grasping a crying Lincoln’s shoulder for a brief moment before walking down the beach alone.

* * *

**Day 3**

Raven is woken up just as the sun is rising by the sound of a high-pitched noise stopping and starting. “What the hell?” She groans as she rolls over and finds Monty fiddling with an iPad and what look like some speakers he built from cups and other electrical parts.  
            “Sorry! Sorry, I need to make it higher pitched.” Monty quickly fiddles with some settings and the noise increases to a nearly intolerable high pitch noise, and then it goes silent as it reaches pitches that they can’t hear.

Raven, still groggy, looks at Monty in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Monty blushes and gathers the iPad and homemade speakers into his hands. “I’m, uh… I’m trying to help Harper find her dog.”

“So you wasted electronic equipment to generate a whistle noise so you could impress a pretty girl?”

Monty blushes and stutters, “No… um…”

Raven drops her serious façade and smiles, holding out a closed fist. “Nice one dude.”

Monty chuckles in relief and returns her fist bump, then leaves the tent in hopes that he can find Vincent before Harper wakes up so that he can surprise her. Before Monty turns toward the woods, he spots Clarke sitting just above the high tide line, watching the waves crash onto the shore and the sun rise. For a brief moment, he considers going to talk to her, but then he spots Lexa walking down the beach, back towards him and the other survivors. Knowing that they need to talk, he turns and walks into the jungle instead.

After he is 50 yards in, he turns on his device and holds up the cup that he is using as a homemade speaker, and he starts walking through the jungle, parallel with the beach. After a few moments, he hears a bark.

“Vincent!” Monty calls out, turning the sound of the speaker up. After another moment, he hears something crashing through the bushes, and a yellow lab bursts out seconds later, jumping on Monty and licking his entire face.

Monty drops the iPad and stumbles backwards as the dog happily yips and jumps around him. Wanting to save the battery, Monty quickly turns the iPad off and grabs Vincent by his collar. Vincent starts running and yanks Monty forward, practically dragging him towards the beach. Despite Vincent’s tugs, Monty refuses to let go of the collar, not wanting to lose him again now that he’s finally found him.

It doesn’t take long for the pair to burst onto the beach, just as the other survivors are starting to awaken. Vincent starts barking loudly at all the new faces, and more sleepy survivors poke their heads out of their tents.

Suddenly, Harper bursts from her tent, dressed only in pajama shorts, a tank top, and a disbelieving smile on her face. “Vincent?” She yells to the dog, and he takes off running towards her, wrenching himself free from Monty.

Monty stumbles and falls onto the sand, just barely catching himself before he faceplants in the sand. When he gets up, he sees a giggling Harper being aggressively licked by Vincent. She pushes his nose away and squeezes him tight with a big smile on her face. “Vincent! Don’t you ever do that again I was so worried about you! I love you so much buddy.” She kisses him on his nose and pushes herself to her feet to walk over and embrace Monty. “Thank you so much for finding him for me.” Monty is shocked, and Harper pulls out of the embrace to beam at him and kiss him briefly on the cheek.

Monty blushes and manages to mumble “you’re welcome,” as other survivors start forward to greet the newest member of the group.

* * *

Clarke had been unable to sleep last night, kept awake thinking about what Lexa had done. On a certain level, she can understand it, but she still can’t quite accept it. The sunrise had been beautiful, and Clarke can’t help but think that it shouldn’t be this beautiful. They were in a plane crash and so many people had died, yet here they were trapped in what could be called a paradise, and Clarke cannot quite wrap her head around it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke catches movement, and she turns her head slightly to see Lexa walking down the beach towards her. She hadn’t seen Lexa since she had yelled at her in the tent, and she still doesn’t know if she’s ready to face her yet.

Several long moments later, Clarke senses a presence beside her, and Lexa drops gracefully into the sand next to her, mirroring Clarke and crossing her legs in front of her, leaning her elbows on her knees.

Clarke refuses to look at the brunette, and she hears Lexa sighs, but the weight of her green eyes moves off her. They sit in silence for several moments, and Clarke finally relaxes fractionally, which prompts Lexa to speak.

“I want to tell you why I did it.” Clarke sighs and finally turns her head to meet Lexa’s eyes. “A week before we crashed, my unit lost someone. Her family lives in Australia, that’s why we were there. Her name was…” Lexa pauses and looks away from Clarke’s searching blue eyes before she whispers, “Costia.” She takes a deep breath before she continues. “She was captured by a warlord who particularly hated us, especially me. Because she was in my unit, they tortured her. Killed her. Cut off her head. That’s why I couldn’t…” Lexa sighs and allows her green eyes to meet blue once more. “That’s why I couldn’t let Gustus suffer. There was nothing I could do to ease Costia’s pain before her death, but Gustus didn’t have to go through the same thing she did.”

Clarke looks away from Lexa, lost in her own memories about her lost loved ones. One in particular strikes her mind, and she realizes that she and Lexa are not as different as she would like to believe. Clarke returns her gaze to Lexa and sees the guilt and pain in her green eyes, and she is sure that her own pain is visible in her own eyes as well. “I’m sorry for Gustus and for Costia. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love.”

“ _Hodnes laik kwelness_.” Lexa murmurs.

Clarke’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “What does that mean?” When Lexa doesn’t answer, Clarke decides not to push her. And although she doesn’t like Lexa’s decision, she finds that her anger towards her has dissipated. “We all deserve a chance to start over, to let go of our pasts. That’s why I moved to Australia. Now is as good a time as any to give yourself a clean slate and focus on moving forward.” Clarke leans over and bumps her shoulder against Lexa’s, ensuring that she has the brunette’s attention.

Lexa turns her gaze from the vast blue of the ocean to the deep blue of Clarke’s eyes. “We have a similar saying for that, in _Trigedasleng_. _Stedaunon don gon we en kikon ste enti._ ”

“What does it mean?” Clarke asks with the hint of a smile.

“The dead are gone, and the living are hungry.” Without another word, Lexa gets up and leaves Clarke alone on the beach with her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first off, I am not a doctor, so any medical information I put in may not be accurate. Also, I know nothing about the Army, so I'm not sure if anything I made happen in the story could actually happen in real life... Sorry if that bothers you, I'm trying to make it as realistic as possible while staying true to what I need to happen in the story. If you know something that I don't, I can change it! Send me a comment and let me know what you think!


	4. Walkabout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walkabout refers to a rite of passage during which indigenous male Australians would undergo a journey around the ages of 10-16 and live in the wilderness for a period of time that could range up to 6 months in order to make the spiritual and traditional transition into manhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first, I would like to apologize for the long wait for this. I have some excuses, mainly exams, illness, my birthday... It was a busy month. I am in university and still try to have a life! But anyways, another reason was that I had to carefully think over a lot of important things that happened in this chapter and affect the story further down the road. Plus, it's 18,000 words, which means it took me around 30 hours to write this chapter... My longest one so far! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope the wait was worth it! :) Sorry if there are errors, I really just wanted to be done with this chapter.

**Day 3**

            Lincoln has taken up a post 20 feet in the air on top of a piece of airplane wreckage so that he could see in all directions and watch the survivors trying to sleep. Even though Lexa hadn’t asked him to keep watch, he knew that someone should, and she would be back soon anyways. Lincoln sighs, high above everyone else and lonely. Lexa had been conspicuously absent, and knowing her, she had been off in the woods brooding. Unlike Lexa, after losing another member of their unit all Lincoln wanted was to be close to the only one he had left, but she had disappeared.

            Lincoln can’t fight his drooping eyes much longer, and begins to lightly doze while sitting upright. However, he is awoken later by loud barking. Realizing that he had fallen asleep, Lincoln jerks awake immediately looking for danger. A hand rests on his shoulder to steady him, which nearly causes him to fall to the ground in surprise. When he turns his head, he finds Lexa sitting next to him with a firm grip on his shoulder.

            Lexa sends him a small, apologetic smile, knowing that he had needed her today but still unable to face him. Lincoln relaxes and returns her smile with his own, silently telling her that he forgives her.

Their silent communication is interrupted as Vincent starts barking again, this time louder and more aggressively. The two carefully climb down from their perch and walk amongst the survivors to check on everyone.

“Shhh Vincent. Quiet!” Harper is frantically trying to quiet her dog, which is bouncing around and pulling on his leash. “I’m sorry!” She calls out to the survivors who are glaring at her and grumbling.

When loud clanks against metal come from the fuselage, Lincoln and Lexa immediately head towards the sound. As they pass Clarke’s tent, she steps out, having clearly just woken up. “Whas goin’ ‘n?” She slurs rubbing her eyes in an effort to wake up.

Lexa freezes at the sight of an adorably rumpled Clarke, but Lincoln doesn’t lose focus. “We aren’t sure.” Lincoln’s words snap Lexa out of her gawking and she shakes her head as she follows Lincoln to the sound of the noise.

Realizing that something is wrong, Clarke quickly joins the small group following the two soldiers, carefully picking their way through the rest of the wreckage and awakening survivors.

The group pauses several yards from the fuselage at the edge of the ring of light created by the closest fire.

“What is it?” Jasper verbalizes what everyone is thinking.

“Someone’s in there.” Maya answers him his side.

“Everyone in there is dead.” Wells calls out, having helped to move the bodies in there two days ago.

“It’s just Murphy scavenging.” Lincoln tells them as he relaxes, remembering meeting the man in there the previous day.

“Yo, Dwayne Johnson, I’m right here,” Murphy growls from the edge of the group, glaring at Lincoln.

Lexa pulls a flashlight out of her pocket and switches it on, then slowly and carefully starts walking towards the fuselage with Lincoln at her side.

“Lexa,” Clarke hisses out, not wanting the brunette to put herself in danger again, but when she doesn’t stop, Clarke joins them, walking behind Lexa. Wanting to impress Maya, Jasper joins the group, pulling out a flashlight he had found while searching the luggage.

As the group approaches the fuselage, the rustling noises coming from inside increase, and they all become tense. Lexa shines her light around, looking for the source of the noise but being careful to move her light slowly in an attempt not to frighten whatever is making the noises.

Jasper becomes impatient and takes his own light and shines it right into the middle of the fuselage. Lincoln reaches out to try to stop him but it’s too late. Two bright eyes flash in the light and a loud grunt of surprise is heard.

“Run.” Lexa hisses at the group, turning quickly and pushing Clarke in front of her back to the safety of the firelight. Lincoln is quick to follow the two women, but Jasper is not so lucky. He is too slow to turn and feels a sharp pain flare through his leg. His fear motivates him and he is quick to rise, ignoring the pain and stumbling away from the fuselage.

Two more dark forms dart out of the fuselage, running fast and low to the ground. As the other survivors see them, they quickly back up closer to the protection of the fire. Fortunately, the three animals head straight for the jungle, squealing and grunting.

“What the hell were those things?” Octavia calls out, huddled next to her brother and giving a nearby Lincoln a concerned once over.

“Boar.” Lexa answers. Noticing how close she is still standing protectively in front of Clarke, she steps away and turns to face the other survivors. “I am confident that we scared them enough that they will not return tonight. Just in case, you should stay close to the fires in groups.” As the survivors start whispering to each other about the recent animal sighting, Maya yells out for Clarke.

“Clarke, it’s Jasper, he hurt his leg!”

Clarke immediately runs over to start examining him, trying to see in the firelight. In an effort to aid the doctor, Lexa strides over and shines her light on his leg. Clarke gives her a brief smile of thanks and rips Jasper’s jeans so that she can see better.

“It’s not bad, but you do need stitches.”

“I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt at all.” He tries to reassure Maya, but winces as Clarke prods his wound. Maya is quick to reach for his hand and comfort him, which he returns with a bashful smile.

Lexa holds out her hand to help Jasper to his feet, but he wobbles when he only puts weight on his uninjured leg. Clarke offers Jasper her shoulder to lean on, and Lexa moves to take his other side, but is stopped by Lincoln.

“ _Heda_ , your shoulder.”

Lexa sighs but acquiesces and allows Lincoln to take her place and assist Jasper to the tent. Lexa moves to Clarke’s other side, ready to steady her if she stumbles under Jasper’s weight.

After a few steps, Clarke gives Lexa a stern look. “Where’s your sling?”

Lexa’s eyes widen and she averts her eyes from Clarke’s accusing gaze. “I’m fine, I don’t need it anymore.”

Clarke reaches her free arm out and prods Lexa’s injured shoulder roughly. When Lexa immediately moves away from Clarke’s touch, Clarke raises one eyebrow at the brunette. “Sure.” She mutters skeptically, but lets it go.

When the four make it to the medical tent, they all freeze, knowing that Gustus’ body is still in there. Jasper is confused by the tense, awkward moment, but Clarke quickly slides out from under his shoulder.

“Put him in the tent next door, I’m going to get some supplies.”

Lexa clenches her jaw but moves to hold the tent flap happen for Lincoln and Jasper to stumble inside. Their movement and light awaken Monty, who is asleep sitting up right with his face smushed against a disassembled iPad, and Raven, who rolls over and grumbles at the group.

“Ugh, can’t a girl get any beauty sleep while on vacation?”

Jasper chuckles and sits down heavily next to the sleepy woman. “Don’t worry, we’ll make this quick. You really need all you can get.”

Raven huffs and pulls the blanket over her head. Jasper chuckles and Lincoln cracks a smile, but Lexa remains as stoic as ever. Monty looks up at the invaders wearily, his exhausted brain working hard to figure out what brings them here.

A few seconds later, Clarke returns with some alcohol, a needle, and thread. As she kneels down and starts cleaning Jasper’s wound, Raven pulls the blanket back from over her face.

“Really Clarke? You’re doing that right next to me? You can’t do it somewhere else?” Clarke shoots Raven a glare and uses her eyes to motion to Lincoln and Lexa, who have both frozen. Raven winces and after a moment of tense silence, she tries to lighten the mood. “So what happened to you anyways?”

“I fought a boar.” Jasper boasts to a surprised Raven.

“Nice dude.” Monty holds out his hand for a fist bump, which Jasper returns happily.

“You were grazed by a boar as you were running away.” Lexa corrects, causing Raven to laugh and Clarke to smile.

Jasper pouts, and Lincoln tries to help him save face by changing the subject. “The boars were feeding. We need to get rid of the bodies.”

“We’ll just have to bury them tomorrow.” Jasper says, wincing as Clarke pushes the needle through his skin on the first stitch.

“There’s too many bodies to bury, and we don’t have any equipment.” Lexa tells them, reminding Clarke of the conversation they had the first day they were on the island.

“You want to burn them, right?” Lexa nods her head once, and knowing that Lexa is right, Clarke accepts it, but Raven does not.

“They are people! You can’t just burn them! Who are we to decide how they are laid to rest?”

“Would you rather they are dug up and eaten by wild animals? Because that’s what is going to happen.” Lincoln tells the fiery Latina as he backs up Lexa.

Remembering what Lexa had told her earlier that morning, Clarke mumbles, “The dead are gone…”

“ _En kikon ste enti_.” Lexa finishes for her. Lincoln looks between the two of them, surprised that Clarke has already learned some of their language, and Raven just glares between the two of them, not fully understanding what had been said. Monty just looks down at this work, trying to stay out of anther fight.

“Hypothetically, if we _do_ burn the bodies, how would we do it?” Jasper asks.

“We _are_ burning the bodies.” Lexa declares, not allowing room for any arguments. “Tomorrow, I will speak to everyone and tell them to start collecting firewood, brush, leaves, and kindling. We can put it in the fuselage and light it on fire as soon as darkness falls.” When Raven looks like she is going to continue to protest, Lexa turns to Lincoln and holds out her hand. “I will take first watch.” Lincoln hands her the gun and watches as she disappears into the night.

“We really need to get more people to help keep watch.” Lincoln grumbles as he follows Lexa into the darkness in search of a spot to sleep until she awakens him for the second watch.

With Lexa and Lincoln gone, Raven pleads with Clarke, knowing she will be the only one able to change Lexa’s mind. “Clarke, you can’t seriously allow them to do this.”

Clarke sighs and finishes Jasper’s last stitch then covers it with a bandage. “Raven, I know you don’t like it but… I have to tell you something. Only Lexa, Jasper, and Lincoln know, so you can’t tell anyone else. Actually, Monty should probably know this anyways.” Clarke pauses and when Raven nods her acquiescence, the blonde continues. “When we went to look for the transceiver, we talked to the pilot. He said that we were over 1,000 miles off course, and that no one knew where we were. They aren’t going to find us in time to be able to bring back the bodies to their loved ones. It’s up to us to give them the most dignified memorial we can.” Raven averts her eyes from Clarke and Jasper, trying to hide her guilt, and Monty shifts around uncomfortably. Clarke, however, takes their movements as a sign of discouragement and puts her hand on Raven’s shoulder to comfort her. “Look, I know it’s hard, but that’s why we need you and Monty to work on the transceiver.” Raven nods, still unable to meet Clarke’s eyes while lying to her and remembering how unlikely it is that they will be rescued.

While Clarke had been talking, Jasper had been lost in his own thoughts about burning the bodies, and he chooses now to voice his doubts. “If Lexa wants to burn the bodies so badly, why are we waiting until dark tomorrow?”

Clarke sighs and turns her attention back to Jasper. “Because she’s hoping that against all odds, someone will see it.”

* * *

 

**Day 4**

The next morning, having already spoken to the other survivors about gathering firewood, Lexa heads back to the tent dubbed “The Workshop” by Raven in order to speak with her about the events of last night. When she walks in, she finds Monty and Raven fiddling with an object that they clearly built last night. Deciding not to interrupt whatever they are doing, she quietly takes a seat on one the airline seats and crosses one leg over the other, patiently waiting for them to finish their conversation.

After several moments, they must come to some decision, because Monty starts working on some wires and Raven turns around from the makeshift workbench to stretch out her leg. She jolts upon finding Lexa sitting there, having been too absorbed in her work to hear her come in.

“What are you doing here?” Raven asks, unable to hide the bite in her tone.

Lexa doesn’t react to Raven’s tone, and calmly answers, “I wanted to talk to you about last night. Things were… tense.”

Raven snorts and glares at Lexa. “Of course things are going to be tense. You want to _burn_ people’s bodies. But fine, the decision has been made, I can live with it. But continuing to ask me to lie to Clarke, when all she has done is treat me with kindness and try to help me… That’s fucked up. Clarke is stronger than you think; she deserves to know.”

“Raven…” Lexa warns, stopping the angry brunette’s tirade. “We have been over this.” Raven huffs and holds up her hands, still angry, but knowing that Lexa isn’t going to change her mind. She turns back around to watch Monty work, and Lexa sighs, knowing that she can’t alienate their best chance of getting them off the island. In a kinder tone, she asks the pair, “What are you making? Is there anything you need or anything I can do to help?”

Raven sighs but answers the brunette. “We’re trying to pick up the French man’s transmission.”

“Why?” Lexa’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “Shouldn’t we be trying to send out another signal instead of finding the one already here?”

Monty hands the contraption to Raven and turns around, smiling at Lexa in his excitement. “If the transmission has been playing for that long, it must have a power source. 15 years? The battery in our transceiver could probably broadcast for a few days before it died.”

“So… You want to find the power source?” Lexa asks, evidently not familiar with advanced technology.

“Yes.” Raven tells her as she turns around. “If there’s a big enough power source to last for 15 years, there could be even more technology with it that we could use to get off the island. There have been so many technological advances in that time. Hell, we didn’t even have iPhones back then. With the technology we have from people’s electronics and the power source already on the island, we have a real shot of creating something that we can use to get us off this blasted rock.”

Lexa’s mind is swirling with the new information. “So what is that you’re making?”

“It’s like an antenna.” Monty explains. He picks it up and stands it upright, and Lexa could see how it is similar to an antenna. “If we make a couple more of these and put them around the island, we could use the transceiver to find the signal and the power source.”

Lexa stands up and allows a small smile to form on her face. “That’s great, you’re both doing a great job. As soon as one is ready, just tell me, and Lincoln and I can set them up for you.” Lexa hears some shouts coming from the beach, so she sighs and heads towards them, but not before she gratefully pats a surprised Monty on the shoulder. 

* * *

Clarke had been collecting firewood until she had seen Murphy yelling at a distressed looking Harper. Vincent started barking at Murphy aggressively, trying to protect his owner, but Murphy had only aimed a kick at the yellow lab and ignored him. Harper yells at him and pushes him, bending down to check on her dog.

“Hey!” Lincoln yells, dropping his armful of firewood and stepping in front of Harper to face Murphy.

“What is going on?” Clarke yells as she runs up, putting her hand on a tearful Harper’s back and rubbing soothingly.

“We don’t have any food, and it’s _her_ fault for handing it all out like she was Santa Claus and it was Christmas morning.’

“I didn’t know rescue would take this long, and it was only the premade meals. They would have gone bad…” Harper stutters out as she continues to soothe her dog.

Murphy takes a step towards her in anger, but Bellamy grabs his shoulder as other survivors start to crowd around them. “Hey man, take it easy.”

Murphy wrenches his shoulder out from under Bellamy’s hand. “Stay out of this Tinkerbell.”

Lincoln steps towards Murphy in order to regain his attention. “Harper is right, the meals would have gone bad by now. We still have some rations left. However, it is time we started really looking for other forms of sustenance. There’s fish, clams, crabs, and seaweed in the ocean, and fruits and nuts inland.”

“How exactly are we going to find this sustenance? Not to mention the jaguars roaming around the island. If you and Lexa won’t give up the gun, how can we be safe wandering around in the jungle?” Murphy growls as he saunters over to a row of airline seats and slouches into it, glaring at Lincoln.

Suddenly, something whizzes through the air and slams into the seat next to Murphy. When he turns his head, his eyes widen as he realizes that a knife is sticking out of the seat close to his head.

“We become the hunters.” Wells calls out, transferring everyone’s attention to him.

“Wells?” Clarke is shocked at seeing her peaceful friend throwing knives. “What are you doing with a knife?”

At that moment Lexa reaches the group and quickly takes in the scene before her. She confidently strides over to the seat and pulls the knife out with one hand and brings it back to Wells, handing it to him hilt first. “You either have very good aim, or very bad aim.” She tells him with a raised eyebrow.

“Wells, do you even know how to hunt?” Clarke asks him with concern, stepping towards him.

“Of course he does.” Jaha says proudly, stepping out of the crowd and putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “He met a few friends in law school and took up the sport with them. Came home and cleared out the feral pig problem on our estate within the next year.” Wells holds back a grimace, not enjoying his father’s bragging or even the actual killing as he had only done it to help protect the land, but it is true.

“I have some experience hunting boar. The ones we saw yesterday were 100 to 150 pounds, so they are most likely piglets about a year old. Their mother must be nearby. An easily angered, 250 pound sow with sharp tusks as long as 4 inches. I figured it would take two other people to distract the mother so that I can corner one of the smaller ones and slit its throat. If we use all the meat and properly store and ration it, it could feed us all for at least a week.”

Murphy laughs sardonically. “So you want two people to follow you into the magic forest after the three little pigs with a tiny hunting knife? I’m sure there’s plenty of people who are willing to sign up for that.”

Thelonious picks up a silver case and flips the lid up, revealing around 20 knives of varying sizes. “There’s bigger knives.”

Clarke is completely shocked, not expecting this from her childhood friend or his father, who both had shown no interest in killing or weapons in the time she had known them. “How did you get those on the plane?”

“We checked them.” Wells answers with a smile, trying to soothe the fear and confusion in his old friend’s eye. “Anyone’s free to have one to use for defense or just a tool.” Wells looks around with a smile but is only met with gaping mouths and frightened faces.

            Octavia breaks the spell by stepping forward. “Well in that case…” She smiles at Wells and starts looking at the knives. Most people shuffle off to continue collecting firewood, still nervous towards the people who had brought a suitcase full of knives on the plane.

            “Really, O?” Bellamy asks, following her, but she gives him the finger and continues looking. She reaches towards one of the biggest ones, but Lincoln gently grabs her wrist to stop her. She narrows her eyes at him in protest, but he picks up a smaller one instead and hands it to her.

            “First lesson: bigger is not always better. That size knife will be difficult to become accustomed to for a beginner and will only be a hindrance.” Octavia smiles up at him as she straps it to her thigh, and Lincoln picks out several knives of varying sizes for himself.

            Lexa steps forward towards Wells, brushing against Clarke as she grabs two knives for herself. “Lincoln and I can go with you and provide a distraction. I would like to save the gun for emergencies, but if it becomes too dangerous, we could shoot the mother.” Wells nods his thanks to her and Lincoln as they head off to prepare a pack for the trip. Octavia follows, pestering them to allow her to come, and Bellamy follows after her, insisting that it’s too dangerous.

            Wells chuckles and turns his attention to Clarke, who is gazing at him warily. He sighs and reaches into the case to pull out a smaller yet still very sharp knife for her. “Here, this could come in handy. You should take it.”

            Clarke hesitantly takes it and puts the sheath through her belt loops before turning her questioning blue eyes on her former best friend. “Who are you and what have you done with the Wells I grew up with?”

* * *

_“Check.” A smirking Clarke tells Wells as she moves her bishop within striking distance of Wells’ king. Wells takes a moment to analyze the board, and after carefully considering several options, he moves a pawn in between Clarke’s bishop and his king. Clarke bites her lip and leans forward, analyzing the board for her next move._

_The game moves back and forth for several moments, until finally, Wells declares, “Checkmate.”_

_Clarke sighs and concedes, knocking her king over in defeat. “You win. Again. One of these days I’m going to beat you, Wells Jaha.”_

_“Well you can certainly try, Clarke Griffin.” Wells sits back in his chair and grins smugly, which elicits a pout from Clarke. “Another game?”_

_Clarke shakes her head no. “C’mon, let’s go outside.” Clarke gestures to the expansive green lawn surrounding Wells’ antebellum style home that had been in the family for years before standing up and stretching out her cramped muscles. As the son of the longest serving mayor in town history, Wells was practically Arkadian royalty, and he most definitely couldn’t forget it, especially in his house that was practically a mansion run by several staff members._

_As Clarke bounces out of the house in her cut off jean shorts, tank top, and flip-flops, Wells follows in his khaki shorts and button up. Knowing that they are probably headed for Clarke’s favorite spot, he slips on his own flip flops so that he can easily remove them later._

_Clarke grabs Wells’ hand and yanks him from the darkness of the manor and out into the bright sunlight, giggling as she runs across the perfectly groomed lawn with him. Together, they run down the hill in the backyard and into the coolness provided by the tall shade trees at the back. Clarke lets go of Well’s hand so that they can walk single file through the trees and bushes, with only the sounds of their breathing and the birds singing in the trees._

_After 10 minutes of easy walking, the two emerge into a clearing, their clearing in fact. The creek that divides the Jaha’s property with their neighbors is deepest at this point, and years ago the two would spend hours swimming and splashing in the cool waters. In high school, the two had spent less time together, as they both became busy with school, new friends, and their respective leadership activities, but they still had remained friends._

_“Look Wells, it’s still here!” Clarke gleefully yells as she runs towards a rope swing._

_Wells chuckles, remembering how they had managed to finally convince their parents to build it for them when they were 14. In fact, Clarke’s father Jake had built it, declaring that it was better if an engineer constructed it than some clueless teenagers who didn’t know the first thing about physics._

_“Think it will still hold?” Clarke grins as she starts swinging the rope back and forth, a daring look in her eye._

_“Clarke!” Wells chokes out, astonished. “That rope is 4 years old! It’s probably going to break!”_

_“C’mon Wells!” Clarke whines. “We did this the last day of summer before high school, and look how great it turned out! Tomorrow I leave for college, and you leave the week after. Do it for luck.” Clarke quickly kicks off her shoes and before Wells can stop her, she grabs the rope and runs towards the creek, grabbing onto it as tight as she can as she swings out over the water. At the top of the rope’s arc, Clarke gives Wells a grin and sticks out her tongue before letting go and splashing into the water._

_Wells sighs and kicks off his shoes, knowing that there’s no way he can resist his best friend. As soon as Clarke pops up from underneath the water and pushes aside her now wet blonde hair, Wells is running towards her, swinging into the air and landing several feet away from her, splashing her with water._

_“Hey!” Clarke mock yells at him, splashing him with water as soon as he surfaces. He shakes the water out of his hair and smiles in triumphant at her._

_“I hope that sets the tone for college now. I’m not going to be there to make you do fun things, anymore, so I expect you to do them all on your own.”_

_“Hey, I do fun things!” Wells protests, splashing water towards her._

_“No you don’t! You would have sat in your house all day playing chess if I let you! What use is going to college if you don’t have any fun?”_

_“Clarke…” Wells starts, looking down at the water sadly. Sensing that shift in tone, Clarke swims towards him, grabbing his hand, which causes Wells to meet her eyes._

_“Hey, what’s wrong?”_

_Wells leans towards her, eyes bouncing from her pink lips to her blue eyes. “I… I just…” he stutters out._

_“You just what?” Clarke questions, clearly confused and concerned._

_Wells wants to lean forward and connect their lips, but he doesn’t, not wanting to ruin their friendship. Clarke has never shown any interest in him other than as a good friend. “I’m just really going to miss you while we’re both at college.”_

_Clarke’s face softens and she pulls Wells into a hug. “I’m gonna miss you too, but we will still see each other during holidays and breaks. You’re one of my best friends, and that’s not going to change, OK?”_

_“Yeah, of course not.” Wells murmurs as he pulls out of the hug._

_“Good.” Clarke smiles as she dunks his head underwater with a laugh._

* * *

After Wells had left her to go prepare for the hunt, Clarke decides to go find Lexa. A pissed off Octavia stomps past her, in the direction Clarke assumes is away from Lincoln. Where Lincoln is, Lexa most likely is, so she strolls through the sand casually looking around for that distinctively ornate braid of brunette hair.

Clarke spots Lincoln loading his backpack with water, but doesn’t see Lexa. She tries to casually sweep the area with her eyes, but still doesn’t see her.

“Looking for someone?”

Clarke jumps and turns around, meeting a smirking Lexa. Reflexively, she punches her in playful retaliation for scaring her, just like she would do to one of her friends back home. Lexa hisses out a quiet breath, and Clarke quickly winces and reaches out to caress the area. “I’m so sorry, I forgot about your shoulder.”

Lexa unclenches her jaw and pushes down the pain. “It is fine, Clarke. I was the one who snuck up on you.”

Clarke raises her eyebrow as she drops her hands from Lexa’s shoulder to her hips. “You know, this wouldn’t keep happening if you would just wear your sling. Two days is not enough time to heal.”

“I do not have time to just sit back and relax. We’re trying to survive; there’s no days off.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at the typical Lexa answer. “OK, I concede that point, but purposely volunteering for every dangerous and strenuous activity? I didn’t even know you knew how to hunt.”

“Lincoln and I are in the best shape and trained for dangerous situations. Hunting is hunting, no matter the prey.”

“Well _Heda_ , you are certainly unprepared for one the most dangerous situations of all, and here I thought you were perfect, always prepared for anything.” Clarke teases. While Lexa’s brow wrinkles in confusion and her eyes slightly glaze over as she goes over everything that she has packed in her backpack, Clarke sneakily pulls a tube out from her pocket and squirts the contents onto her index finger, which she uses to quickly bop Lexa’s nose with, smearing the white liquid on the tip. Lexa’s eyes widen, and Clarke starts giggling, laughing at the sunscreen now covering the tip of her nose. She goes to smear some more on Lexa’s adorably pink sunburned cheeks, but Lexa grabs her wrist before she makes contact, sending Clarke a chastising look.

Clarke tries to reprimand Lexa, but her giggles ruin the effect. “You’re looking a little pink, you really need to start using sunscreen.”

Lincoln chooses this moment to interrupt, smiling and raising his eyebrow when he sees his Captain with sunscreen on her nose and her fingers still wrapped around Clarke’s wrist. “Getting a head start on your war paint, _Heda_?”

Lexa shoots him one of her trademark stoic yet fierce gazes, clearly not happy with his teasing. After many years with her, he knows that this fierce gaze means she is not truly angry, so he remains smiling as he holds out a tube of eye black for her. Lexa rolls her eyes and releases Clarke’s hand before she grabs the tube with one hand and quickly rubs the sunscreen off her nose with the other.

“See you later, Clarke!” Lincoln calls as he heads towards the jungle with his own tube of eye black, ready to apply his own war paint.

“War paint?” Clarke asks Lexa in amusement, thinking that Lincoln is joking.

Lexa nods once as she uncaps the tube and starts applying it to her face, not needing a mirror as she has done it enough times. “It became a tradition with our unit whenever we were in rural areas to apply our war paint for missions. It helps to hide our identity and intimidates our enemy.”

Clarke watches in fascination as Lexa closes her eyes and starts smearing eye black along her orbital bone in a curved path until the corner of her eye, then a line straight back to her hairline. She fills in above the line to underneath her eyelid, then draws a line straight up the side of her nose from to the corner of her eyebrow, filling in the side and area over her eyelid and smearing it into her eyebrow. Right at the spot where her eyebrow curves down, she draws a line straight back to her hair and uses broad streaks to fill it in. At the corner of her eye, she draws one tear streak halfway down her cheek, then one next to it down level with her lips, and a third reaching all the way to her jawline. She repeats the process on the other side, leaving the ridge of her nose bare.

Lexa’s eyes blink open slowly, even more vibrant green now that they are surrounded by black. “Did I miss anything?” She asks Clarke, blinking in the bright sunlight.

It takes Clarke a few seconds to respond, lost as she is in Lexa’s eyes and tracing the outline of her mask. Unconsciously, she reaches out to trace one of the 3 streaks down her face. “Why three?”

Lexa loses herself in Clarke’s blue eyes as she speaks, unconsciously leaning closer. “I believe that there are three pillars of being a commander. Wisdom, compassion, and strength. I wear them for my men to see, so they know that I am making a commitment to my leadership responsibilities and to them, just as they are committing their trust to me.”

Clarke hums, reaching out to trace each streak running down Lexa’s cheek. Upon realizing what she is doing, she pretends to wipe a nonexistent smudge off Lexa’s cheek. “There, you’re all good.” In her embarrassment, she misses Lexa intensely tracing her own features with her eyes, pausing at her pink lips.

A shout interrupts their moment, causing Lexa and Clarke to both take a step away from each other. “Lexa! Wait!” Monty yells, jogging towards them.

“Yes Monty?” Lexa demands, turning her attention to the huffing technological genius.

Monty does a double take when he sees Lexa in her war paint, but quickly composes himself when she repeats her question. “Ummm, Raven and I finished the antenna and were hoping that you could put it in a tree while you were out hunting boar. Preferably far inland, if possible, just as long as you remember where it is so we can retrieve it later.”

“Of course, I will go get it from Raven.” Lexa nods at Monty and turns her gaze to Clarke. “Be careful, _Klark_. The sun is strong today.” With a smirk, Lexa gently caresses one of Clarke’s pale cheeks with her index finger and heads towards The Workshop.

Monty, stunned at the interaction, turns towards a stunned Clarke. “Was she flirting with you? Raven said there was something going on between you two…”

Clarke recovers enough to defend herself. “No, that was nothing. Nothing is going on between us.”

Monty can’t help his knowing grin from forming. “Suuuure, Clarke.”

Clarke shakes her head at him and heads back towards the fuselage to continue to help with the firewood.

* * *

After leaving Lexa and Clarke on the beach, Lincoln headed towards the forest, looking for Wells. When he saw the man standing over in the shade with a backpack, he moved over to stand next to him, waiting for Lexa. Pulling out one of his knives, he starts twirling it absent mindedly in his hands.

            Wells, ever the politician, breaks the silence first. “So, how long have you known Lexa for?”

            “She’s been my captain for around 7 years. How long have you known Clarke?”

            “Since we were kids. We grew up together.”

            Lincoln briefly nods his head, not used to making small talk. He hadn’t felt the need with his unit, as they spent every day together, and he was always quiet in high school, never feeling the need to fill the silence with useless chatter. However, Wells had made the first effort, and it appeared that they were going to be trapped on the island for a while, so he might as well try to get to know the man. “How did you learn to hunt boar again?”

           “When I was in law school, several of my friends were big hunters. I would go shooting at the range with them, and I got pretty good. They took me on a few hunts, but I was never fond of killing. My father owns quite a bit of land, and when I went home for the holidays, he complained about the feral hogs rooting up a lot of our land. One of our workers had even been chased by one. So I hunted several of them until they weren’t a problem anymore.”

            Lincoln nods his head, accepting Wells’ story. He felt confident that he and Lexa could face any situation thrown at him, but he was wary of bringing a civilian with them. Having hunting experience reassured him that Wells would be able to handle it.

           A few minutes later, Lexa strides up to them, face set in her mask and strides confident. “Ready?” She asks the group, receiving nods in return. “Lead the way.” Lexa tells Wells as she gestures to the jungle.

            Wells nods and leads the way into the jungle, following the tracks that the boar had made from the previous night.

* * *

           An hour later, Clarke is hot and sweaty from carrying wood in the sun. Her face is on fire, and she’s hoping it’s from the exertion and not from the sun. Lexa would never let her live that down. After a few more trips back and forth from the jungle to the fuselage, Maya stops her.

            “Hey, Clarke!”

            Clarke drops her armful of wood to smile at the young woman. “Hi Maya, how are you doing?”

            “I’m fine. The baby seems fine. Kicking up a storm.” Maya laughs and rubs her swollen belly protectively.

Clarke smiles at the woman, happy that they are healthy. “That’s great. Did you need something?”

“Well, ummm, people look to you, for things. You’re a doctor and ummm people trust you, so I thought you should see this.” Maya hands Clarke a large scrapbook brimming with photos and slips of paper and pressed flowers. Clarke takes it and flips through it, seeing wedding photos. “When I was going through the luggage, I found it. The date is only a few weeks ago, so I’m assuming they were on their honeymoon when…” Maya trails off, saddened by the death of this recently united couple.

Clarke flips through the rest of it and holds it out for Maya to take back. “Thank you for showing me, Maya.”

Maya makes no move to take the scrapbook back. “Well some of the other survivors and I were talking, and we were thinking we would have a memorial service tonight when we lay these people to rest. Since you know most everyone and everyone likes you, I figured you could lead it.”

Clarke’s face falls, and she holds out the scrapbook to Maya, forcing the young woman to take it back. “No… I… No.” She bends down to pick up her pile of wood and turns away.

“It wouldn’t be much. Just reading off names, anything we know about them.”

“No, I… It’s not my thing. You should do it.”

Maya is confused, having never seen Clarke so withdrawn and unhappy. “Oh, yeah sure, I can do it.”

“Good. It will be good for everyone.” Clarke walks away with her pile of wood, leaving a confused Maya behind. She keeps making trips back and forth to the jungle until she decides to take a rest, heading towards their stash of water. She grabs an empty bottle and tips it into the water they had collected with a tarp when it had rained, quickly guzzling the fluids in an effort to cool her body down.

“Clarke.”

She is surprised by Bellamy’s voice and quickly turns around, spilling some water in her movements. She does her best to wipe the water and sweat off her face as best as she can with one hand while she glances at the man’s concerned expression. “What’s wrong Bellamy?”

Bellamy eyes widen as he takes in a sweaty yet still beautiful Clarke. “Uh that guy you saved, he’s been sitting over there,” Bellamy gestures with his hand to where Nathan is sitting, “and I don’t think he’s moved today. I figured you would want to go talk to him.”

Clarke wipes the back of her neck, trying to get rid of the sweat that has collected there. “Why me? I’m not a psychiatrist. You know him as well as I do.”

“I just thought you would want to do it. You’re taking a break, and you _were_ the one who saved his life.”

Clarke sighs, knowing that he is right, but still bristling somewhat at the responsibilities that people have been asking her to take on. She of course wants to help people, but just because she’s a doctor doesn’t mean that she has all the answers, even though many people treat her as if she does.

A bead of sweat trickling its way down the back of her neck uncomfortably breaks her from her thoughts enough for her to wipe it away. Bellamy is right; it’s a hot day and Nathan needs water at the very least. She grabs an extra bottle of water, fills it up, and starts walking towards the man sitting alone from everyone else.  

* * *

“See this here?” Wells points to two oval indentations in the mud. “This is a boar hoof print.” Lexa and Lincoln both nod, and follow Wells as he continues walking through the jungle. They had been walking for an hour, following a path of disturbed bushes and leaves, but had yet to see hoof prints, until now.

They follow the direction of the prints for another few moments, everyone walking silently and alert for any danger. Lexa has to admit that although Wells is not as quiet as she or Lincoln moving throughout the jungle, he is still quiet enough that they will most likely not alert the boar to their approach. While still wary of him – he and his father _had_ brought an entire suitcase of knives on the plane – she will have to remember his skills, which could prove useful in future trips into the jungle.

“Stop. Look at this.” Wells gestures to a clearing, in the middle of which is several areas of muddy, disturbed ground. “Boars root around in the ground, digging it up in search of nuts, roots, small animals, grass, or insects. Afterwards, they often wallow in the broken ground. That’s why they are can be so devastating to land, if there’s a lot of them.”

Lexa looks around the clearing until her eyes rest on a tree to her right. Walking towards it, she bends down, rubbing her fingers in a deep gouge about knee high.

Wells follows her to see what she has found. “It’s from a tusk. They like to rub against trees.”

“Does this mean we are close?” Lincoln asks as he walks around, examining the ground for more tracks.

“Yes.” Wells tells him, circling the clearing in the opposite direction of Lincoln. When he finds tracks, he draws his knife before he walks further into the jungle, the two soldiers mirroring his actions as they follow him.

* * *

Jasper had snuck away from wood carrying duty into the forest, pulling out a bag of heroin. Thinking about all the dead people they were about to burn was depressing, and he hadn’t had a fix since the night before. He hears footsteps and quickly inhales it before hastily stuffing the bag back into his pocket just as Octavia walks into the clearing.

“Hey, Jasper, are you busy?”

Jasper smiles as he starts to feel the high. “I was just, no, I’m not busy. Do you need something?”

Octavia smiles sweetly at him. “Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

Jasper smirks and struts towards her, puffing out his chest. “Ask away! But I think I know what you’re going to say. Yes, I am in Dropship.”

Octavia looks at him in confusion. “What is Dropship?”

“Oh, it’s my band.” Now Jasper is confused. If she didn’t want to talk to him about his band, he didn’t know what she needed from him.

“I was actually wondering if you knew how to fish.”

“Well, I’ve been with my friends before. I’m from England, so I’ve eaten a lot of fish and chips. But yeah, I know how to fish a bit.”

Octavia smiles slyly at him. “Perfect.”

* * *

Clarke sits down next to Nathan, being careful not to knock sand onto him. He’s sitting with his legs crossed in front of him, staring out into the ocean, twirling a wedding ring tied on a loop around his neck.

“Hey Nathan. Remember me? I was sitting next to you on the plane and told you not to worry about the turbulence.” She laughs a little at how wrong she had been. Nathan doesn’t react however, just continues to gaze out at the water.

“Look, I’m worried about you. Other people are worried too. I know everything that has happened these past few days has been hard, and I understand why you want to be alone, but you have to take care of yourself.” Clarke holds a bottle of water out in front of the young man, waiting for him to acknowledge her. When he doesn’t, she sets it in between his legs within easy reach.

“It’s most important that you drink. Humans can go weeks without food, but will die within a week without water and much sooner in this heat. Not saying that you shouldn’t eat! But people need to drink 1 to 2 liters of water every day, so…” Clarke sighs and trails off, deciding that her babbling is only making the situation worse.

“You know what, I’m just going to stop talking and just sit here with you. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I will be here.” Clarke turns her gaze from the man out to the ocean, but she still catches him from her peripheral vision as he unscrews the water cap off the water bottle and takes a sip.

* * *

Lexa and Lincoln had started to quietly murmur to each other in Trigedaslang as they followed Wells through the jungle. Lexa didn’t want to scare the boar away, but she wanted to discuss Wells’ plan with Lincoln before they came upon the animals.

“ _What do you think of him_?” Lexa asks, knowing that Wells cannot see or understand her.

“ _He seems to know what he’s doing._ ” Lincoln tells her, inclining his head towards Wells’ back.

“Hmmm.” Lexa grunts noncommittally. “ _Hunting with knives is much different than hunting with guns._ ”

“ _Well, do you have a better plan, Heda_?” When Lexa shakes her head, Lincoln smirks at her. “ _Is this really about his hunting skills or his connection to Klark_?”

Wells had been trying to listen to Lincoln and Lexa’s conversation, but when he realized they were speaking in a different language, he gave up. As soon as he heard Clarke’s name, however, he turns his head to talk to them. Ever the politician, he doesn’t directly point out their rudeness in excluding him. “What language are you speaking? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”

Lexa glares at Lincoln, knowing that Wells had heard him say Clarke’s name. “We use it in the army.” Conscious that she needs to bridge the gap she had created by excluding him from conversation, she decides to give him a half-hearted apology of “Old habits.”

“Is that where all this,” Wells hesitates and gestures to the black lines adorning her and Lincoln’s faces, “comes from?”

“Yes, it helps to break up the lines of our face and make it less recognizable.” Lexa answers him succinctly, not wanting him to continue asking about her time in the army.

“More importantly, it makes us look intimidating.” Lincoln smiles at Wells, who returns it and launches into a story about Clarke painting his face for Halloween.

Lexa tunes them out, focusing on the sounds of the forest instead. Wind blows gently through the trees and birds cry loudly, which doesn’t surprise her. She can hear something rustling through the leaves several feet away and the soft sounds of Wells’ footsteps and his heavy breaths. She notices how sweaty the back of Wells’ shirt is and realizes that they should probably take a break soon to rehydrate. Unused to the high temperatures, physical exertion, and strong sun as he is, he could easily become dehydrated without knowing.

Suddenly, Lexa hears a noise slightly louder than the others. “ _Hod op_ ,” she says instinctively, her and Lincoln both stopping immediately.

Wells gets the gist of Lexa’s command and freezes as well, looking around. He doesn’t hear or see anything, so he whispers, “What is it? Did you see something?”

“Quiet.” Lexa hisses at him, bending her knees into an athletic stance and moving forward past Wells with her knife raised. She examines some gouges on a nearby tree, silently gesturing to Wells.

Wells nods in confirmation that he has seen them and starts slowly walking forward, examining the ground for prints. Lexa and Lincoln follow, slightly behind and on either side of him, knives at the ready.

Wells starts to stalk through the waist high grass, but Lexa grabs his arm from behind, shaking her head and pulling him back. He looks at her, raising both his eyebrows high in an exaggerated question. She gestures to the thick grass, points to her eyes, and shakes her head. Hunting the boar into the grass where they won’t be able to see them coming could be dangerous. Wells points to the grass with one hand and gives her a thumbs up with the other. This is the direction they went, he doesn’t understand why she is reluctant to follow. After some more gestures from Lexa that get increasingly violent and incomprehensible, he finally grabs her arm and whispers, “Trust me, they went this way.”

A loud squeal and the pounding of heavy, running feet resonate through the peaceful forest. The group looks around frantically, trying to see the direction the boar is coming, but they only have seconds to react as it bursts from the grass in front of them. Lexa wraps her arms around Wells and flings them to the side, out of the way of the rampaging boar. Lincoln jumps out of the way as well, narrowly avoiding the tusks, but when it circles back around headed towards a now defenseless Lexa and Wells, he jumps in front of it with his knife raised, stabbing it in the back. The boar squeals and takes off, but it has already done its damage and gored Lincoln’s leg.

Lexa sits up, grabbing her injured shoulder and feeling the socket. Fortunately, she didn’t reinjure it, but falling on it so soon after dislocating it is causing her pain. There’s a burning sensation on her face so she knows that she must have a scratch on her face, but otherwise she is fine. She glances over at Wells and finds him breathing harshly but otherwise seemingly OK. Lincoln’s pained groans shoot fear through her, and she quickly crawls over to him.

            “ _Linkon_ …” Lexa starts quickly looking for his injury. There is no fear in her voice or expression, but Lincoln can see it in her eyes. They are all that the other has left, which is why he had not hesitated to jump in front of a charging boar for her and now why his usually stoic _Heda_ was running her hands over his body searching for his injury. When she finally gets to his leg he groans again quiet but still unable to help it.

            Lexa uses her knife to slit the seam of Lincoln’s pants, knowing that they could most easily be stitched back together there if needed. There is not an unlimited supply of clothing, and even in the middle of a crisis she is ever practical. Upon seeing the large gouge in Lincoln’s thigh, Lexa pulls out a cloth from her pocket and presses it deep into the wound.

“I’m fine, _Heda_. It’s just a scratch.” Lincoln moans in pain as Lexa applies pressure to his wound.

Lexa glares at him as she motions for him to maintain pressure on his leg, which he does, and slips her backpack off so that she can pull out a first aid kit. She removes Lincoln’s hand to examine his wound, looking for major bleeding or signs of a worse injury. She would like to stitch him up so he doesn’t lose as much blood trying to get back, but the wound is deep and could probably use more than just surface stitches.

“I’m gonna patch this up and get you back to Clarke, all right?”

Lincoln nods and forces a smile on his face. “Using my injury as an excuse to see her? That’s low, Lexa.” Lincoln’s teasing is cut off with a wince as Lexa presses gauze into Lincoln’s wound.

“Wells, Lincoln is injured.” When Wells doesn’t answer, she lifts her eyes from Lincoln’s wound to his prone form, worried for the young man now. “Wells, are you OK?”

Wells slowly sits up and looks down at his body and around at the clearing, still getting his bearings. This is what he had wanted to do, living off the land and hunting, and he could barely do it without needed to be rescued. He is frustrated that Lexa and Lincoln clearly have the skills to survive on a Walkabout, while he can’t even get out of the way of a charging boar. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I just got the wind knocked out of me.” Wells grabs his knife and stands up, looking around frantically. “Did you see which way the boar went?”

Lexa works faster, taping the makeshift bandage to Lincoln’s thigh quickly, hoping that it will hold until they get to the beach. Finishing up the bandage, she turns to Wells in surprise. “Lincoln’s hurt. We need to get him back to the beach.”

Wells bends down, examining the fresh tracks. “You take him back. I’m going after the boar.”

Lexa stands up swiftly, holding her hand out to Lincoln without looking down at him. “What are you talking about? You said you needed 3 people to hunt the boar.” Lexa grunts as Lincoln grabs her hand and pulls himself to his feet, trying to keep his weight off his injured leg.

“It’s fine, I can do it. The one that ran that way was alone.” Wells stands up and starts following the tracks into the forest, determined to prove to himself, to his father, and even though he won’t admit it, to Clarke, that he is more than capable of doing this.

Lexa calls after him. “Do you even know how to navigate back to the beach?” When Wells shows no sign of stopping, she tries to appeal to his emotional side. She knows it’s hypocritical, but she yells after him anyways, “What would Clarke say? And your father? You cannot do this to them!”

As Wells disappears into the forest he growls back at her, “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!”

* * *

_Wells runs down the stairs, excited to go see Clarke. They had both been busy in their third year of college preparing for the MCAT and LSAT followed by a busy summer applying to medical and law schools. Summer was halfway over, but they had both finished their applications and had agreed to hang out today. Wells leaps down the last two steps, sliding across the hall towards his shoes by the front door, unable to hide his happiness._

_“Wells.” His father calls out to him, stopping his break for freedom._

_“Yes Father?” Wells straightens out his posture and turns to face his stern looking father._

_“Where are you going? Don’t you have law school applications to finish?”_

_Wells tries to hide his frustration, but he knows that his father can see through him. “I finished yesterday. I’m going to see Clarke; I haven’t seen her all summer.”_

_oius makes a disapproving grunt. “I was hoping we could talk.”_

_“Father, I’m going to be late…” Wells trails off when his father makes no indication that he has heard him and instead has moved towards his office. Wells barely holds back a sigh as he follows Thelonious to the study, taking a seat in one of the chairs facing his father._

_Thelonious settles himself down in his large chair behind his ornate desk, staring intensely at his son. Wells refuses to fidget under his intense gaze, so he pulls a piece of paper out from a drawer of his desk and slides it across the desk towards his son. “What is a ‘Walkabout?’ Experience the dream journey of the fabled Australian outback? What is this, Wells?”_

_Wells’ eyes widen has he picks up the brochure he had gotten at college. “Have you been snooping in my room?” His eyes turn angry as he glares at his father._

_“When do you think you are going to have time for this? You have your undergraduate courses to finish, interviews for law school, an internship before law school… How will this contribute to your career?”_

_Wells is still angry that his father had invaded his personal space. Thelonoius had been pushing him to follow in his footsteps and become a political lawyer and then a politician. However, Wells had recently found a passion for nature and wanted to become an environmental lawyer, and he was afraid for how his father would take it. “I was going to defer my acceptance to law school and take a gap year. For part of that, I could go on the Walkabout. I have enough savings to pay for it.”_

_“But why, Wells? You have such a bright future ahead of you. On track to go to one of the best law schools in the country, practice for a few years, and by the time I am ready to retire, you can take over as Mayor. I just don’t understand why you would want to do this. It’s unlike you. Does this have something to do with Clarke? You know, I spoke with Abby a few days ago when we had our council meeting. She tells me that Clarke is dating someone, a boy named Finn.” At Wells’ shocked face, Thelonious drives the knife deeper. “He’s visiting them right now; I’m sure you’ll meet him today.”_

_Wells is dumbfounded, as Clarke had never mentioned the boy to him before. Maybe she hadn’t been as clueless about his feelings as he had thought she was. He refuses to play into his father’s games, however, so he tries to play it off, only asking “And?” as if this information has not just crushed a part of his heart._

_oius leans his elbows onto his desk, adopting a sympathetic appearance for his son. “I know how you feel about her. But doing this is not going to impress her, or make her feel the same way back. You can’t chase her forever, Wells, and it’s time you moved on with your life and do what you were born to do.”_

_Unable to hold his anger in anymore, Wells stands up and walks out, throwing the door open with a bang. With one last glance at his father, he growls “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.”_

* * *

Monty stabs a makeshift spear into the water and pulls it back unsuccessfully. An hour ago, when Jasper had barged into The Workshop with Octavia and proclaimed him as the smartest man he knows and asked for his help, he didn’t know that it would involve this. Sure, he had some experience fishing, but never with a sharpened piece of metal he had tied onto the end of a stick.

“Did you get it?” Octavia asks him hopefully.

“No.” Monty groans, disappointed. “Do you wanna try?”

“Sure!” Octavia bounces into the waist high water and grabs the spear with two hands, trying not to get buffeted back and forth by the waves. She immediately starts trying to focus on fish darting around, but the moving water is difficult to see through.

“I thought you knew how to fish?” Jasper asks Monty as the man comes to stand next to him in the knee high water. Jasper had been using his Sharpie to change the first letter on the tape wrapped around each of his fingers to read ‘LATE’ instead of ‘FATE.’

“Yes, with a fishing pole and bait or with fishing nets. Never with…” Monty trails off and gestures to the measly spear that he had managed to construct. At this point, he was just surprised that it had withheld an hour of first Jasper then him repeatedly stabbing it into the water over and over, unsuccessfully.

“Well, thank you for trying, at least.”

Monty holds up a fist, which Jasper promptly bumps. “No problem. You seem like a cool guy anyways.”

Jasper laughs. “Yeah, that’s me, rock star on an island vacation. If I could find my guitar and we could steal some of the booze Clarke has confiscated for ‘medicinal use’ we could have ourselves a concert.”

Monty laughs, but then starts thinking. “Well, I do not know much about musical instruments, but I bet I could build us a still and we could make moonshine.”

Jasper’s eyes light up in excitement. “No way? That’d be awesome!”

Before Monty can go into the logistics of making moonshine, a high-pitched scream draws his attention back to Octavia, who is jumping up and down with a fish on the end of the spear.

“I got one! Look at this! Look who can provide for themselves all on their own!”

Monty and Jasper look at each other, not wanting to point out that the excited brunette did have some assistance. 

* * *

Back in The Workshop, Raven was bored. Monty had gone off on some fishing expedition with Jasper and Octavia earlier, which she couldn’t go on because she was supposed to be resting her leg. There was not much she could really work on until Lexa got back and they could test to see if the antenna they built worked. Just as she is debating whether she could justify using the battery on one of the iPads to watch porn, a woman walks into the tent holding an envelope in her hand.

“Hey Raven, I’m Harper, remember? I brought you food the first night we were here.”

Raven smiles at the woman, glad to finally have some company. “Oh, yeah. I was a little out of it that night, but… hey!” Raven shouts as a yellow lab bursts into the tent and beelines straight for her, licking her face.

Harper quickly grabs her dog and pulls him away from Raven, unsure whether his affections were welcome or not. “I’m sorry! He’s just trying to be friendly.”

Raven laughs and holds out her hand for the yellow lab to sniff, which Harper takes as a sign that she can let him go. Vincent surges forward again, sniffing Raven and wiggling as she starts scratching his ears. “It’s fine, I don’t have a lot of visitors. I’ll take what I can get.” Vincent licks her face again, lies down, and rolls onto his back for Raven to rub his belly. Raven chuckles but complies, giving Vincent vigorous scratches.

Harper takes a seat on a nearby airline seat, more than willing to keep the woman company. “Well I’ve been helping with the fuselage all day, so I’m more than happy to take a rest and keep you company.” Raven doesn’t reply, but Harper sees the corner of her mouth turn up in a hint of a smile. “So, I came here because I wanted to give you this.” Harper holds out an opened white envelope with Raven’s name written on the front. “Maya found this when she was going through the luggage.”

Raven looks up from giving Vincent attention to see the envelope Harper is holding out. When she recognizes it, she quickly grabs it, carefully opening it to find the enclosed picture still intact. She looks up at Harper to give her a sincere smile. “Thank you, I thought I had lost it.” She can’t resist running her finger over the round face of a floppy haired boy. She remembers taking the picture at her college graduation, the last happy memory she had of him before she found out he was cheating on her and she fled overseas for a job.

“No problem. I’m glad you got it back if it means so much to you.”

Raven looks up to see a sincere looking Harper. She smiles at her, but is broken from her thoughts as Vincent rolls over, knocking her leg. Raven’s smile turns into a wince, which she quickly tries to hide.

Harper quickly jumps up and grabs Vincent, pulling him away from the injured girl. “I’m so sorry, are you OK? Do you need me to get Clarke?”

Raven breathes deeply, trying to ignore the shooting pain coming from the parts of her leg that she can feel. “It’s fine, I’m fine. She’s probably off somewhere pouting that her second favorite brunette has gone off into the Heart of Darkness again.”

Harper laughs and settles down next to Raven, making sure to keep Vincent calm this time. “Second favorite?” Raven raises an eyebrow and points to herself, eliciting another giggle from Harper. “Are you sure though? She’s not too far, actually, just down the beach talking to Nathan, apparently he’s just been sitting alone the past few days.”

Raven raises an eyebrow in surprise, having not heard about this latest drama. “I didn’t know that, do tell. Apparently, I’m out of the island gossip loop.”

Harper laughs and begins to update Raven on everything that has been happening, allowing the two women to forget their problems if only for a few moments.

* * *

Clarke had been sitting next to Nathan for the past hour just staring at the waves. Fortunately, clouds had rolled in, so hopefully she wouldn’t be too sunburned. It was nice, sitting with her toes in the sand and the salty breeze on her face, watching the water change colors from green to dark blue as clouds floated by. These past few days, she hadn’t had time to truly sit back and try to process the trauma that she had gone through, and after sitting like this for only an hour, she could understand why Nathan had chosen to do so.

“His fingers swell.”

Clarke looks at Nathan in surprise, not sure that she imagined him speaking or not. His face looks the same as before, no expression, but even though she hasn’t been sleeping enough, she doesn’t think she’s reached the point of hallucinations.

“My husband, Bryan.” This time, Clarke is facing Nathan and can see his mouth move, so she knows that she’s not imagining it. “His fingers swell when we fly, so I always hold onto his ring for him. His fingers are smaller than mine, so I wear it around my neck so I don’t have to risk it slipping off my finger.” Nathan reaches up to the chain around his neck and pulls out the wedding ring he had been fiddling with earlier.

“It’s edema, from the high altitude. Blood isn’t circulating as well, and being seated for hours doesn’t help. It’s worsened by high levels of sodium, which is often the case with travel snacks and airline food.” Nathan lifts his brow at Clarke and allows a small smirk to form on his face. Clarke blushes and rolls her eyes, bumping his shoulder as she returns her gaze to the water. “I’m sorry, I’m a doctor! I can’t just turn it off.”

“Is that why you’re here? You were the only medical professional so you were chosen to come check on me? Make sure I’m not crazy?”

Clarke returns her gaze to Nathan, trying to discern how he’s feeling. He looks sad, but no more than the other passengers who had lost someone. “You don’t look crazy, do I need to be worried?” Nathan shakes his head ‘no,’ and Clarke can’t help but internally sigh in relief. She had done a psychiatry rotation, but she was definitely not qualified to counsel anyone, especially when she has enough of her own problems.

“Remember when we were on the plane, and you promised me that you would keep me company until my husband got back from the restroom?” Clarke bites her lip and nods, wondering where he is going with this. “I’m letting you off the hook.”

Clarke lets out a chuckle and reaches over to lace her fingers with Nathan’s hand. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m a Griffin, which means I’m stubborn.”

Nathan smiles at Clarke and squeezes her hand. “I’m aware. I’m alive because of it. Thank you for that, by the way. You’ve been busy these past few days, but I wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“Anytime, Nathan. But only if you promise to take care of yourself. You have post-traumatic shock, and it’s best not to be alone. Come back and be with me and the others. I can introduce you around, find you something to keep you busy.”

Nathan smiles at Clarke and releases her hand so that he can take another sip of water. “You’re a good person, Clarke. I can tell. Caring, selfless, intelligent, strong. I can see why you became a doctor.”

Clarke holds out her hand for the water bottle and Nathan passes it to her so she can take a sip. “Thank you. I love that I can help people, don’t get me wrong, but I was more born into it than I chose it. My mom is a big deal in the medical field, and there was no question that I wouldn’t follow her footsteps.”

“What would you have done, if you could have chosen?”

Clarke sighs, allowing her sky blue eyes to meet the deep blue of the ocean. “I would have liked to become an artist. I even tried to double major in college, until my mom found out my junior year. She was not… pleased…said it was a waste of time.”

“Maybe this is your second chance, then. You’ve got plenty of time now to waste.” Clarke laughs and starts thinking about the supplies she will need to start drawing or painting again. Absentmindedly, she grabs a stick and starts tracing in the sand, wondering where she can find paper or a smooth material to draw on. Nathan watches her smooth out the sand and start drawing what appears to be a pair of eyes with a mask, but he doesn’t interrupt her, just watches her trace more and more designs in the sand.

* * *

_“Wells, look here!”_

_“Congratulations, Mr. Mayor!”_

_“Wells, how does it feel to be the youngest mayor in Arkadia’s history?”_

_“Wells!”_

_“Wells!”_

_Wells blinks as his retinas are assaulted with cameras flashing repeatedly. He does his best to ignore them and with a big smile, steps up to the microphones placed at the podium. He clears his throat, signaling to the journalists to cease their incessant questions._

_“Good evening, everybody. I am truly honored that you have you placed your trust in me to lead our town. I assure you, I will earn that trust by continuing my father’s efforts to help our town prosper!” Clapping sounds throughout the room and Wells pauses, waiting for it to die down. “As you all know, my father has decided to step down from his position as Mayor due to personal reasons. In his place, the town council will make all major decisions for the next few months until I am inducted as mayor.”_

_“Wells, why did your father step down?”_

_“Was he afraid to risk running against you and losing?”_

_“What are your plans for the next few months?”_

_Wells lets the questions roll off him until he finds one that he is willing to answer. Just when he is about to talk about his plan for education reform, Thelonious walks onto the stage, smiling and waving, as the reporters’ cameras flash rapid fire. Thelonious steps up to the podium next to Wells, draping his arm around his son’s shoulders._

_“Good evening, everybody. I think I can provide some assistance with some of these questions and save my son from your hounding, at least this time.” The reporters chuckle, having spent years interviewing the man. “Unbeknownst to my son, I have booked us a month-long vacation.” Wells is shocked by the revelation, but does his best to school his features into a pleased smile for the press. “For the past five years, Wells has been studying to graduate top of his class from law school and then working for one of the top political law firms in the country. In two months, he will be committing himself to this town as diligently as he has committed himself to his studies. Before he does that, I wanted to give him a break and the opportunity to see a little more of the world and enjoy some quality family time.”_

_“Mayor Jaha, where will you be going?”_

_Wells goes to answer, but realizes that the reporter was speaking to his father. Just when he thought that he would finally have his moment, his father hijacks it._

_“We’ll be going to Australia, on an authentic aboriginal walkabout. It’s a journey of spiritual renewal where one derives strength from the Earth and becomes inseparable from it. Wells has always been a proponent for the environment, and what better way to get close to the Earth than by experiencing one of its most beautiful and harsh environments? When you voted for Wells over former Mayer Diana Sydney, you voted for a cleaner Arkadia, one that will allow our children to grow up in a healthy environment! Now, if you will excuse us, we both have some packing to do.”_

_Thelonious waves to the reporters and leads his son off the stage and into the back room. As soon as they are out of sight, Wells shrugs out from under his father’s shoulders._

_“What the hell, Dad? You hijacked my speech! And we’re going to_ Australia _? You told me years ago that I couldn’t go on a walkabout, and now_ you want to come with me _?”_

_Thelonious places his hand on his son’s shoulder, trying to soothe the angry young man. “I know it was a surprise, but I wanted to do this for you, to celebrate your election win. And I wanted to make it up to you not allowing you to go sooner. With everything that’s happened, I just wanted to spend some time with you before you get busy and things deteriorate further.”_

_Wells sighs, still frustrated, but knowing that his father means well. He steps forward and embraces him, something he had found himself doing a lot these last few months, even though they had never been a hugging family. “Thank you, Dad. When do we leave?”_

_“Tomorrow.” Wells stiffens in his father’s arms at the thought of how little time he has to prepare for a trip around the world, but his father just laughs. “Do not worry, I have made all the arrangements and ordered everything that we need. There is not much left for you to do, except to enjoy yourself.”_  

* * *

Despite her best efforts, Wells had disappeared into the jungle, and there was nothing Lexa could do about it. She couldn’t physically force Wells to stay without causing him harm, and she wouldn’t be able to help an injured him and Lincoln back to the beach. With Lincoln injured and needing medical attention, she didn’t have the time to chase Wells into the jungle and try to convince him to stay either. At this point, all she can do is hope that Wells will find his way back to camp uninjured, at least for his father’s and Clarke’s sakes. She is not looking forward to telling yet another person that their loved one will not be returning to them.

Lincoln grunts, bringing Lexa out of her thoughts to focus on the man who is hobbling through the jungle with one arm over her shoulders, clearly trying to keep as much of his weight off her as possible despite the pain he is in. In response to his clear pain, she tights her grip around his waist, forcing him to shift more of his weight onto her thin yet strong frame. She can tell that he is not happy about using her as his crutch, but knows that he has no choice.

After a few more minutes of walking, both of their breathing has become labored, Lincoln’s in pain and Lexa’s in exertion from supporting the much larger Lincoln’s weight.

“Let’s take a break.” Lexa huffs out, halting under a tree.

“I can keep going, _Heda_.”

Lexa glares at him, and he relents, allowing her to ease him to the ground. Lincoln slides off his backpack and pulls out a water bottle, guzzling it greedily. After catching her breath, Lexa does the same, drinking half her water bottle in one gulp.

“What’s that?” Lincoln asks as he points to the mechanical device in Lexa’s backpack.

“Monty and Raven gave it to me to put in a tree. It’s some kind of antenna to find the source of the distress call coming from the island. I guess here is as good a place as any to put it up.”

“OK, just be careful.” Lincoln examines the tree Lexa is thinking of climbing, noticing its smooth bark and thin branches. He looks around for an easier one, but none of them come close to this one in height. He glares at it as if he is daring it to injure his _Heda_.

“Aren’t I always? Besides, I’ve climbed worse before.” Lexa smirks at Lincoln, who only rolls his eyes and starts rifling through his pack as he mumbles that just because they call themselves Trikru doesn’t mean they are any safer in a tree.

Lexa shakes her head at her friend as she slips her backpack on and gets a running start, leaping into the air to grab onto the tree’s lowest branch. She does a pull up and swings her leg up and onto the branch, pulling the rest of her body up to sit on the branch. She plans her route up to the highest point she feels she can go, knowing how important it is that she be able to safely ascend and descend the tree. Once she knows her route, she checks on Lincoln only to find him flipping through the pages of his notebook. When she catches sight of a sketch of Octavia, she can’t resist teasing him, “I see you’ve found yourself a muse. I wonder what her brother would think?”

Lincoln quickly snaps the book shut and glares up at her, knowing he’s been caught. Lexa lets herself laugh at him, and he pouts, but can’t hold back a smile. It’s not often that Lexa laughs, so he likes to enjoy it when he can. “Octavia is an adult, she can make her own decisions.”

Lexa snorts. “Try telling him that.” Lincoln sighs, and Lexa knows she will have to talk to continue this conversation with him when she is not 20 feet up in the air. “If you’re going to draw, you might as well make yourself useful and add this location to the map so I don’t have to.”

“As if I would let you touch my map. You are good at a lot of things, Lexa, but drawing is not one of them. Now hurry up and attach that thing before I bleed to death down here.”

Lexa huffs at Lincoln’s complaint, but she knows that he is right, so she stands up and walks along the tree branch towards the trunk, wrapping her arms around it so she can shimmy her way up it to the next branch.

Every once in a while, Lincoln glances up from his drawing to check on Lexa, watching her climb higher and higher into the tree. He can’t help but worry about her; if something were to happen, he would barely be able to get himself back to the beach, let alone her as well. Finally, when she’s about 60 feet in the air, he yells up to her with concern, “Lexa!”

Lexa looks down, unafraid of heights but afraid of the tone Lincoln had used. She can hear the hint of distress in his voice and knows that she’s climbed high enough. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be right down!” Lexa braces herself against the tree and pulls out the antenna, propping it upright with one hand and pulling out a bungee cord with the other. Suddenly, a loud roar sounds through the forest, startling her.

Slightly losing her balance, Lexa’s feet begin to shift off the branch and the antenna starts slipping through her sweaty fingers. With only a split second to make the decision, Lexa decides to drop the antenna and latch onto the trunk with both hands, preventing her from falling. Lincoln shouts as the antenna smashes into the ground near him, which causes Lexa to wince. From her vantage point, Lexa can see the tops of trees moving as what must be several of the angry gorillas move through the foliage, right in the direction that Wells had chased the boar in.

“Fuck.” Lexa hisses, concerned for the young man’s safety, but knowing that there’s nothing she can do. When another roar sounds through the jungle, Lexa quickly makes her way down the tree, half sliding and half falling from branch to branch. She jumps the last 20 feet, bending her knees as she lands on the ground. She winces as the landing shoots pain straight up her shoulder, but ignores it as she has been doing the past few days.

“What happened?” Lincoln asks in concern, unused to his _Heda_ being clumsy.

“I was startled.” Lexa answers simply, quickly gathering every broken piece of the antenna she can find.

“Were they headed…” Lincoln trails off when Lexa nods once, gravely. “Fuck.” Lincoln sighs, hoping that Wells is all right.

“We should go, we are too close to their territory.” Lexa holds out her hand for Lincoln and he uses it to haul himself up, putting his arm around her shoulders again to resume their trek back to the beach. 

* * *

Harper had spent most of the afternoon catching up with Raven, but when the brunette’s eyes had started to flutter, Harper had left so she could take a nap. The woman was still healing, and none of them were really sleeping well. After getting a water bottle and putting it by Raven’s bed for when she woke up, Harper had returned to helping prepare for the memorial service. Currently, she and Maya were sorting through the last of the suitcases, looking for any other pieces of identification for the people they were about to lay to rest.

“Hey, Juno.”

Harper looks up from her work to see Murphy standing in front of Maya holding out some wallets. Maya is looking at him warily, which was a good thing considering he had just insulted her and been nothing but unpleasant to anyone who had approached him.

“I found these, yesterday, when I was… ummm…” Murphy sheepishly looks down, and Maya clearly understands that he means he found them while he was looting. “Look, I know you’re having a memorial service or some shit, and there’s peoples IDs in here, so… Just take them.” Murphy thrusts the wallets at Maya, and she accepts them with a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Murphy just grunts in response, but then he turns his surly countenance on Harper, who instantly becomes defensive and glares at him.

“Look, I’m sorry for kicking your dog, OK?”

Harper’s eyes widen in shock, but she still reaches out to wrap her arm protectively around him. “He didn’t do anything to you. But I’m not the one who deserves an apology; he does.”

Murphy looks at her as if she is crazy, but Harper only stares at him expectantly.

Finally, Murphy bends down and looks at the dog. “Look, you yellow poop machine, I’m sorry for kicking you.” Before Murphy can react, Vincent has lunged at the man and is now licking his face aggressively, slobbering all over him. Murphy quickly pushes the dog off and wipes his face in disgust. When Harper and Maya start laughing at him, he glares at them and strides off, disappearing amongst the wreckage.

“Well, that was… nice?” Maya turns to Harper, and both women start giggling again, unable to help themselves.

Suddenly, they hear shouts from nearby survivors, and the two women look up to see Lexa and Lincoln emerging from the woods. Bellamy is nearby and he runs towards them to take some of Lincoln’s weight from an exhausted looking Lexa. Harper follows, approaching the group just as Bellamy is asking Lincoln what happened.

“A boar got him. Do you know where Clarke is?”

“I do! I can run and get her.” Harper tells them, seeing how much pain Lincoln is in.

“Thanks Harper.” Lincoln tells her, mustering up small, grateful smile. As Lexa and Bellamy help Lincoln to The Workshop, where Clarke still has all her medical supplies, Harper takes off running down the beach to where she had last seen Clarke sitting with Nathan. 

* * *

Clarke had been drawing in the sand for quite a while as Nathan watched her, but when she finally noticed that late afternoon was about to turn into evening, she knew that it was time for them to get back to the other survivors. “Nathan, they’re having a memorial service tonight after sundown, when we burn the fuselage. It’s the most dignified way we can lay everyone to rest. I think they are going to read out names of the people who died.”

Nathan nods his head. “OK, I understand. And I would like to go, to honor those who didn’t make it.”

            Clarke stands up and holds her hands out to Nathan, pulling him to his feet. She links arms with him so he can’t run away from her, and together they start walking down the beach. “Would you like to say something about Bryan? To say goodbye to him?”

            Nathan frowns at his new friend. “Clarke, Bryan isn’t dead.”

            Now Clarke is really concerned. “Nathan, he was in the back of the plane when it broke off over the water. Everyone who was back there is gone.”

“They’re probably thinking the same thing about us.” Clarke stops, trying to figure out if Nathan could be correct, but Nathan just smiles at her and heads toward the other survivors, no doubt trying to help prepare for the memorial service tonight. Clarke sighs and turns her gaze to the forest, thinking about the other half of the plane they had found filled with only dead bodies. As the wind blows through the trees, she sees a familiar, warm smile on her favorite person. “Dad?” Clarke whispers in awe, but she jerks her head away when Harper yells her name. When she turns back to the forest, the man is gone, and Clarke shakes her head, knowing that it can’t be real.

Harper runs up to Clarke, breathing hard. “Clarke, Lexa needs you, she’s in the medical tent.”

Before Harper can say anything else, Clarke is running towards the medical tent, leaving Harper behind. People stare as she runs past them, but she doesn’t slow down, not even as she bursts into The Workshop, which is crowded with people.

Clarke’s eyes immediately find Lexa and she walks straight towards her, ignoring everyone else. “Harper said you needed me, what’s wrong?” Clarke gives her a once over but the woman is standing, so nothing must be wrong too wrong with her, although she can’t assume anything with the stoic brunette.

“Yeah she needs you, I bet Commander-Stick-Up-Her-Ass hasn’t been laid in forever.” Raven snickers, and Lincoln starts to laugh.

Lexa blushes and Clarke is broken from her reverie, only having half heard what Raven had said. Before she can even try to come up with some defense, Lexa gently lays a hand on her shoulder.

“I am fine, _Klark_. Lincoln is the one who is injured.”

“Oh.” Clarke mumbles, working to hide her shiver at Lexa’s pronunciation of her name from Raven and Lincoln. When is she going to get over that?

Raven wants to groan when Clarke starts examining Lincoln’s wound; she had never been a fan of blood, and now she was even more wary of medical things after Clarke had set her leg with no anesthetic. However, she decides not to complain as Clarke will most likely be getting her medical tent back tomorrow, as she assumes that they will burn Gustus’ body tonight with the others. “So, Lexa, how did your mission go?”

Lincoln winces as Clarke starts putting stitches inside his leg, but also at the wrath that Lexa will most likely fall under from the fiery woman.

In response to Raven’s question, Lexa pulls out the broken antenna and sets it gently in a now stunned Raven’s lap. “There was an… accident.”

“An accident?” Raven squeaks out.

Clarke pauses her stitches to try to soothe the angry woman. “Raven…”

Raven has plenty of anger and frustration to spread around, however, and Clarke’s words on spur her on. “Don’t Raven me, Clarke. This wouldn’t have happened if you would let me move around. I wouldn’t have broken it. If you would just let me build a brace for my leg, I can start moving around again.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re going to climb 60 feet up a tree and secure this thing with a broken leg and brace?”

“You were climbed a 60 foot tree?” Clarke yells exactly as Raven yells, “You dropped my antenna from 60 feet in the air?”

Lexa narrows her eyes at the brunette, choosing to ignore the blonde for now. “Yes, I almost fell when the gorillas who attacked us roared nearby. It was me or the antenna, so…”

“You would have been better.” Raven grumbles. “It’s going to be difficult to fix this. I don’t have a welding iron or rivets. I’m going to have to replace all the scorched wiring in this. And I have to lie to anyone who asks what I’m doing!” Raven throws the broken pieces at the tent wall and glares at Lexa, who returns Raven’s look with a warning in her eyes.

Unfortunately, Monty chooses that moment to enter the tent with Jasper and Octavia, all three laughing. When he sees the group, he speaks before he can take in the tense atmosphere. “Oh, Lexa, you’re back. How did setting up the antenna go?”

When all he receives is a blank look from Lexa and an angry glare from Raven, he looks around the tent and finds the remains of the smashed antenna. “Oh… Not well I guess.”

Clarke, trying to be the mediator, chimes in, “Well, good news is, everyone is going to be OK. Lincoln, you’ll need to rest your leg as much as possible so you don’t rip your stitches, but something tells me that’s not going to happen, is it?”

When Octavia hears that Lincoln’s injured, she pushes past Jasper and Monty. “Oh my god, Lincoln, what happened?” Octavia shoves the fish she had been holding into her brother’s hand and rushes to Lincoln’s side, taking his hand to comfort him.

Lexa rolls her eyes and smirks at Lincoln over Clarke’s head, but Lincoln only narrows his eyes and motions to Clarke with his eyes. Lexa rolls her eyes and turns to exit the now crowded tent.

Clarke sees Lexa leave and works to quickly finish cleaning and bandaging Lincoln’s leg.

“And you told me that hunting was too dangerous for me to come, and you go and get yourself gored by a boar?”

Lincoln only smiles sweetly at Octavia. “Good thing I have you to provide for me then. How did you know that I love fish?”

“Dude, you should have seen her; she was awesome. Once she got the hang of it, it’s like they just impaled themselves on the spear. She caught 5 fish.” Jasper holds up the bag of fish, as Octavia beams proudly.

“Oh great warrior, you must teach me your ways.” Lincoln teases her. Octavia huffs and playfully shoves Lincoln, ignoring her brother’s glare and Clarke’s knowing smile.

“You promised you would teach me survival skills, but you still have yet to do so.” Octavia whines at Lincoln.

“We can start tomorrow, then. I think I’m free, let me see… Nope, nothing on my calendar. I’m free all day.” Octavia rolls her eyes but can’t help the smile that overtakes her face.

“You have to rest your leg. No strenuous activity.” Clarke chastises, sending Lincoln and Octavia her best stern doctor look.

As Bellamy starts growling at Octavia and Lincoln, Clarke finishes up with Lincoln’s bandage and escapes from that conversation so that she can talk to Raven. “Hey, Rae, you OK?”

Raven waves her off, obviously still frustrated but less angry. “Yeah, I’m sorry I lost it. I’m fine.”

“It’s OK, Raven. Happens to the best of us.” The two women pause as Lincoln ignores Bellamy’s ire to gaze dreamily at Octavia, who returns his gaze.

“Ugh, those two are just as gross as you and Commander Hearteyes. You should have seen your face when you ran in all worried for her, while Lincoln’s sitting over here bleeding out.”

“Shut up!” Clarke growls, still embarrassed from before. Suddenly, Clarke catches sight of a picture of a familiar floppy haired young boy, and she freezes.

Raven watches Clarke’s expression change to one she can’t read and she becomes concerned. “Hey, Clarke, you OK?”

Clarke shakes her head to snap herself out of it. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just… Is that your boyfriend?” Clarke asks as she points to the picture sitting in Raven’s lap.

“Him? No, ex-boyfriend. We dated in high school and then long-distance all of college, until I found out he was cheating on me after graduation. When I found out, I moved overseas to work for a tech company, and I was on my way home when the plane crashed. As much as he hurt me, he’s all the family I have left, so I was hoping to look him up and try to be friends when I got back.” When Clarke’s face only pales, Raven puts her hand on Clarke’s arm to try to soothe her. “Hey, is everything all right?”

Clarke abruptly stands up and backs away from Raven. “Yeah, everything’s fine, I’m just gonna… Go check on Lexa. Bye.” Without another word, Clarke turns and hurries from the room. Raven is confused about the interaction, but soon forgets about it when Monty starts talking about plans for the next antenna.

* * *

Clarke practically runs from the tent, still unable to process what she had just seen. Should she tell Raven? Or wait until they get off the island? But what if she finds out? Clarke knows she should stop stressing; she is emotionally exhausted and needs full brainpower to think through this situation with Raven.

Unconsciously, Clarke had found herself walking down the beach away from everyone else, just needing to be alone with her thoughts for a moment. However, she almost walks straight into a half naked Lexa, who has removed her shoes, rolled up her pants, and is now rinsing her face, arms, and bare torso with salt water.

“Lexa, oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”

Lexa splashes her face one more time to make sure that all the war paint is off and stands up to meet Clarke’s gaze, sending her a smile. “It is fine, Clarke. I heard you coming; you were stomping pretty loudly down the beach. Are you OK?”

Before Clarke can decide whether she should be angry or touched by that comment, she catches sight of the large scratch on Lexa’s cheek. It must have been hidden by Lexa’s war paint before. “Lexa, you’re hurt! You said you were fine!” Clarke grabs Lexa’s jaw with her fingers and tilts her head so she can examine the cut better, using her thumb to gently wipe away the black paint.

“It is just a scratch, Clarke.” Lexa gently pulls her head back, indicating that she wants Clarke to release her.

Clarke sends her a warning glare before checking her wound one more time and releasing the brunette. When she sees the new purple marks on top of fading blue marks on Lexa’s shoulder, she throws up her hands in exasperation. “And you hurt your shoulder again. I could probably make enough money off your injuries alone to retire.”

Lexa raises her eyebrow in challenge at Clarke and steps closer, reaching out with one hand to cup Clarke’s jaw and gently rub her thumb in circles on her bright red cheek. “It seems you did not follow my advice either. I hate to say I told you so, Clarke, but you undoubtedly have a sunburn.”

“Well I hate to say I told you so, but your cheeks are sunburned as well,” Clarke husks, reaching up with her own hand to gently poke Lexa’s pink cheek.

“Not as red as yours, _Klark_.”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I need to get my own war paint to cover them.” Clarke hums, gaze dropping from Lexa’s pink cheeks to her plumb lips as she leans in closer.

Lexa eyes are mesmerized by ocean blue, until her brain connects war paint to jungle to hunting to _Wells_ , and she realizes that Clarke doesn’t know about her friend yet. Lexa immediately drops her hand from Clarke’s cheek and pulls back.

Clarke almost stumbles forward, shocked and confused by Lexa’s actions. When she searches Lexa’s eyes for answers, she only sees sorrow. “Lexa, what’s wrong?” Clarke asks, grabbing her hand in an effort to comfort her.

Lexa looks over Clarke’s shoulder for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she returns her eyes to meet Clarke’s, all she sees is patience and care, and it makes her heart ache. She doesn’t deserve this sympathy. It _is_ her fault that one of Clarke’s childhood friends is most likely dead. “It’s Wells.” Lexa manages to whisper.”

Clarke’s eyes widen in fear and her grip on Lexa’s hand tightens. “What about him?”

“Lincoln was hurt and… he went after the boar alone. I couldn’t stop him. When I was up in the tree I saw the gorillas head in the direction he went…”

Clarke’s eyes fill with tears and she drops Lexa’s hand, turning away from her. Lexa steps back, giving Clarke space. When Clarke still doesn’t look at her, Lexa turns to go. “I should go tell Thelonious.” Lexa waits a moment for Clarke to reply, but when she doesn’t, Lexa starts walking back towards the survivors.

“Wait!” Clarke softly calls after her, and Lexa stops immediately. Clarke walks up next to her, brushing Lexa’s shoulder ever so gently with her own. “I should go with you.” Lexa nods, continuing down the beach towards the rest of the survivors.

When they get closer, Clarke stops, trying to master her emotions. Lexa steps in front of her, hiding her from view of any survivors who happen to look their way. “Clarke, it is fine, you do not need to come. I can tell him.”

Clarke shakes her head, letting out a sob but fighting to keep her tears from falling. “He knows me; I should be there.”

“OK.” Lexa tells her softly, waiting patiently for Clarke to be ready.

Unable to look into Lexa’s green eyes, Clarke turns her gaze to the forest, to the last spot she had seen her childhood best friend. Through the water hovering in her eyes, Clarke thinks she spots a familiar figure in the tree line. She squints her eyes and whispers, “Finn?” as she starts walking towards the figure.

Lexa looks at Clarke with concern as she follows her. “Clarke? Are you OK?” When Clarke refuses to answer her and only increases her speed, Lexa grows more concerned.

Clarke starts to run towards the trees, determined to not let Finn disappear like her father had. She bursts into the forest but finds nothing but foliage blowing in the wind.

“Clarke, what did you see?” Lexa asks, pulling out her knife just in case.

Clarke looks around frantically, until she hears loud rustling coming from the bushes. She tries to move towards the sound, but is stopped by Lexa.

Suddenly, a blood covered Wells bursts from the bushes with a dead boar on his shoulders.

“Wells?” Clarke whispers, still not believing that he’s alive.

Although boar blood is running down his face and arms, Wells still manages to crack a smile. “Honey, I’m home! And I brought dinner.” 

* * *

_Wells had spent a few days adjusting to the time difference, sleeping away his jet lag, and buying a few last minute items for his trip into the Australian wilderness. He had met with their guide a few days ago, but he still couldn’t believe that it was actually happening._

_“This is our destiny, son.” Thelonious tells him, patting him affectionately on the back. Wells had only nodded, having become used to Thelonious’ weird obsession with fate and destiny these past few months. Not that he could blame him._

_As the father-son pair step off the hot street into the cool air of the office, they are immediately met with the manager. “I need to talk to you two. Would you come with me to my office?”_

_Thelonious gives him his best politician smile. “Of course, lead the way.”_

_Wells become nervous, wondering what this is about. He sits down and immediately voices his concern. “Is everything all right?”_

_The manager sighs and fixes them with an apologetic gaze. “You know that the walkabouts we arrange here are as authentic as possible, not just some stroll through the park. It’s trekking across vast stretches of desert, rafting treacherous waters, hiking mountains…”_

_Thelonious smiles and nods his head. “I’m well aware of what’s involved, believe me. I did my research. This is the experience that my son and I both want.”_

_“It’s a trying ordeal for someone in peak physical condition, which is why we require all our participants to undergo a physical exam…” The manager trails off, waiting for the other men to say anything. “Mr. Jaha Senior, our physician was concerned with some of your tests. He called your doctor back in the States, and we can’t allow you to go on the walkabout. Your son is more than welcome to come, of course.”_

_Thelonious’ face morphs with his anger. “I booked this tour a month ago, you’ve already got my money. I demand a place on that bus.”_

_“You misrepresented yourself, Mr. Jaha.”_

_“I never lied.”_

_“You lied by omission. You neglected to tell us about your condition.”_

_Wells pales as he realizes that they know about his father’s condition. “Sir, I spoke with the doctor before I left. He told me that my father wont start to feel affects until another 6 months at least.”_

_The manager turns a sympathetic gaze to Wells. “I’m not sure why your doctor lied to you, but mine said that based on the scans and rate of growth of your father’s brain tumor, he only has 6 months to live. I’m sorry, but our insurance company won’t allow us to take a man on a dangerous trip when his mind will only become increasingly unstable. Now, I have to get the bus off, it’s not fair to keep the others waiting any longer. I will send in one of my employees to help you arrange your trip back to Sydney. It’s the best I can do, and more than fair considering you lied to us.”_

_“Don’t talk to me about fair!” Thelonious growls at the man. “I was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. How is that fair? All I want to do is give my son the trip of his dreams before I die.”_

_“I’m truly sorry, Mr. Jaha, but you can’t come.” The manager strides from the room before anyone else can question him, leaving a shocked Wells and an angry Thelonious behind._

_Jaha stands up to follow him, yelling angrily, “Don’t walk away from me! You don’t know who you’re dealing with! Don’t ever tell me what I can’t do, ever!” Wells grabs his father around the waist, tears rolling down his face as he holds his father back from chasing after the manager. Thelonious turns to his son, his eyes wild. “This is destiny. This is destiny. This is my destiny! I’m supposed to do this, damn it!” Thelonious pushes out of Wells’ arms and runs out the door after the now departing bus, chasing after it and yelling, “Don’t tell me what I can’t do! Don’t tell me what I can’t do!”_

* * *

Darkness had fallen and the survivors had all gathered around to give peace to those who didn’t make it, and maybe assuage some of their survivor’s guilt. Bellamy stood next to Maya, holding in one hand the burning torch they had used to light the fuselage on fire and a flashlight in the other, which he is holding up for Maya to read off the list of names she has made. Harper stands on Maya’s other side, holding all the paper and IDs they had collected, handing them to her when needed.

            “Glen Dickson, from Houston, Texas. He ummm, had taken of his seatbelt so he could take a nap. I guess he didn’t put it on in time.” Maya sighs and hands the ticket and ID back to Harper, pausing to look at the giant flames licking from the fuselage.

The wreckage is 30 feet tall, and the flames go even higher, forcing the survivors to stand well away from the heat. At Raven’s suggestion, they had poured some of the jet fuel on the wood to help make the fire burn brighter and hotter. They had taken her suggestion, and the fuselage had gone up like a match. At first, Raven had watched flames gleefully, until the smell had hit. After lighting the fire, she and Bellamy had quickly crutched away from the smell of burning bodies towards where the rest of the survivors were standing upwind of the fuselage. That had been Lexa’s contribution, although no one had seen her nor Lincoln since they got back from the hunt.

When Harper puts her hand on Maya’s shoulder, urging her to continue, Maya grabs the happiest thing that she can find, the scrapbook she had found earlier. “Trina and Pascal, I don’t know their last name, but… I found their wedding scrapbook.” Maya smiles as she flips through the pages. “They were really in love, you can see it in their photos. I’m assuming they were on their honeymoon, as I found a receipt for a couple’s massage at one of the nicest hotels in the country. I don’t know where they are now, but I know that they are together.”

Maya looks up at the other survivors, who are in varying states of sadness. Jasper is looking at the ground and rubbing his nose, Raven is sitting on a piece of metal with her leg propped up in front of her, moving her lips as if she is praying, Thelonious is standing with his arm around his son, Murphy stands at the back of the crowd smoking a cigarette, and Octavia stands next to Monty.

“Good job, on the boar today, son. You would have done great on the walkabout.” Thelonious whispers to his son as he squeezes his shoulder. Wells nods at him in thanks, turning his attention back to Maya.

As Maya continues to speak about a man named Jason Rothenberg in seat 3, r0w 7 who had been horribly decapitated on his way home to Los Angeles, Octavia leans over to whisper to Monty, “Hey, have you seen Lincoln? Or Lexa?”

Monty shakes his head subtly, leaning over to whisper to her, “Have you seen Clarke?”

Octavia shakes her head sadly, wondering where their three leaders have disappeared.

* * *

Clarke, it turns out, is sitting not to far from the other survivors, alone on the beach in the dark. She refuses to go to another funeral. Instead, she chooses to be alone with her thoughts and memories of her own lost loved ones, gazing out at the moonlight flickering over the waves in the water.

* * *

Further down the beach, out of sight of any of the other survivors, Lexa and Lincoln stand in front of a funeral pyre they had spent all evening making. Gustus’ body lies atop the pyre, wrapped in a blanket.

Lexa lights the pyre and flames start to overtake it, as she and Lincoln both whisper “ _Yu gonplei ste odon_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I love Lexa and I'm still bitter over her death... Sue me... but please don't because I own nothing! When I wrote the war paint scene, I based it on the warpaint Lexa wears when she fights Roan, because it changes a lot throughout the seasons! Trust me, I looked at a lot of pictures of Lexa in war paint. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it ;) So yeah, I promise I'm not giving up on this story, this chapter just took me quite a while. Next chapter will feature Clarke, so that should be fun!


	5. White Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The white rabbit is a fictional character in Lewis Carroll’s book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. He leads Alice deeper and deeper into the whimsical world called Wonderland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took a lot longer than I expected it to... But here it is, the 18,000 word beast I have been slaving away over for the past 2 months! Enjoy and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!! :)

**Day 5**

            _Clarke Griffin was trying to enjoy her first day of school. Her family had just moved to a new town called Arkadia only a week ago, and she had yet to make any friends. As it was her first day of third grade, her mother had insisted that she dress nicely to make a good impression. Hence, she was dressed in a pale blue dress with her bright yellow hair braided into two pigtails. Unfortunately for her, most children were dressed in jeans or shorts and T-shirt, so she stuck out like a sore thumb. Fortunately for her, she had recess before lunch, so she had time to make some friends in hopes that she wouldn’t have to sit alone._

_As she walks through the schoolyard, Clarke sees some younger kids playing on the playground, some older boys playing kickball, and some older girls lounging against the fence staring at the boys. Neither options appeal to her, except maybe kickball, but she’s too afraid to approach all the boys. As she keeps walking past the playground, she recognizes some kids from her class clustered in a circle around the fence._

_Clarke decides to join the group, so she approaches them, only to find two older boys pinning a younger boy to the fence._

_“You think you’re gonna rule the school just because your Daddy is in charge of the town?” One of the older boys says, ending his question with a punch to the boy’s gut._

_Before the boy can say anything, his other tormentor grabs his wrist. “Hmmm nice watch you have here. Did Daddy buy it for you?”_

_The boy tries to protest, but he is struggling to breath, especially as he faces another punch to the face._

_Clarke looks around at her classmates, finding some with smiles on their faces, but just as many with uneasy looks, yet no one steps up. Knowing that this is wrong, Clarke decides to push her way through the crowd to confront the bullies. “Hey, leave him alone.”_

_One of the boys turns to her with a sneer on his face. “Stay out of this, it doesn’t concern you,” the boy tells her as he laughs and wrenches the watch off the younger boy’s wrist, despite his struggles._

_Clarke steps forward and snatches the watch from the bully’s hands. “This isn’t right.”_

_One of the boys turns to Clarke with an angry sneer. “I told you, this doesn’t concern you. Stay out of it.” The boy turns around to punch his target once again, but Clarke grabs his arm and tries to stop him. Being half a head shorter than he is, however, hampers her ability to really do anything.”_

_“Well well well, the princess coming to rescue her prince.” At his words, Clarke kicks him in the balls, dropping him like a stone. She turns to the other boy, but he is already facing her, punching her in the mouth and knocking her back before she can do anything._

_The boy they had been punching jumps on the back of Clarke’s attacker with a yell and starts hitting him on the back with his fists._

_Before Clarke can think about getting up, a teacher comes running up, yelling at the group. The crowd disperses, leaving the two bullies, Clarke, and the boy they had been punching. “What is the meaning of this?” Nobody says a word, but judging by the scene and the type of students she knows the two older boys are, she can guess what has happened. “Alright, all of you, come with me,” she instructs them sternly, helping Clarke and the injured boy to their feet before leading them all to the principal’s office._

_As they walk, Clarke falls in to step next to the boy in her class. “Here, this is yours.” She mumbles to him as she holds out his watch._

_He smiles weakly at her, a black eye already forming on his cheek. “Thank you. It was my grandfather’s.” When Clarke smiles back, he straightens his back and sticks out his hand formally. “My name is Wells. Wells Jaha.”_

_Clarke smiles back at him and shakes his hand. “Clarke Griffin.”_

* * *

After the emotional day yesterday - thinking she had lost Wells only to get him back followed by the funeral - Clarke just needed a few moments to herself. She was sitting off a little ways from everyone, relaxing in the morning sun and just watching the waves, trying to sort through her emotions and thoughts when a noise pricks her attention. She looks around, trying to locate the sound, until she sees Jasper running down the beach towards her.

“Clarke! Clarke! There’s someone out there!” Jasper slides to a stop on the sand next to her, pointing towards the water. Clarke quickly gets to her feet and shades her eyes, looking in the direction Jasper is pointing. “Look! In the current, someone’s out there!”

Clarke can vaguely see a pair of arms waving and faint scream, which is all she needs to sprint towards the water.

“I can’t swim, I can’t…” Jasper cries in despair as Clarke takes off into the water, kicking off her shoes as she goes.

Clarke runs through the water, pushing through the burn in her calves until the water reaches her upper thighs, then she immediately dives forward into a freestyle stroke, swimming hard towards her target. She had never taken swimming lessons, but spent many afternoons in the creek with Wells. The ocean waves prove a different challenge compared to the calm waters of the creek, but she pushes onwards, looking up every moment to check that she is still heading towards the poor woman.

Buoyed by the riptide, Clarke fails to notice how far she is getting from shore. She is getting closer to the woman, but her breathing is starting to increase dramatically. She switches to a front crawl, trying to catch her breath while still move towards the drowning woman, when suddenly a sharp pain rips through her leg. In her panic, she sucks in a gulp of water and sinks down, momentarily. Disoriented and oxygen deprived, she swims to the surface, breaking upwards coughing and gasping for breath. She turns in a circle, treading water and trying to lift herself above the waves to locate the woman, but the pain in her leg prevents her from doing so. Her breathing continues to accelerate as she panics, still trying to catch her breath, push through the pain, reach the woman, and worry about the now very distant shoreline.

Suddenly, a mop of brown hair cuts through a wave towards her, popping up next to her. “Clarke! Are you OK?” Bellamy yells, noticing her panicked state. He swims up to her and wraps his muscular arm under her arms and around her chest, helping to keep her head above the water so she can catch her breath. “Breath Clarke.”

Clarke relaxes momentarily, sucking in gulps of air. As she is no longer kicking frantically, the pain in her leg slows to a dull throb and her muscle relaxes.

When Clarke’s breathing is less harsh, Bellamy uses his free arm to swim them sideways out of the rip tide. When Clarke notices his movement, she stiffens up again. “Wait, did you get her?”

“What?” Bellamy asks as he turns them towards shore now that the pull of the riptide as ceased.

“The woman!” Clarke tries to break from Bellamy’s hold, but he only wraps his arm tighter around her as she struggles. “I was trying to save her!” Clarke’s struggles dip them under the water unexpectedly, and she comes up choking on water once again.

“Clarke!” Bellamy gasps as he spits out his own mouthful of water. He hears a faint yell, and he turns his head out to the ocean, barely able to make out a figure much farther out.

“We have to go back for her!” Clarke kicks out, causing the cramp in her leg to come back. “Leave me, go get her!” Clarke cries, struggling to stay afloat through the pain.

Bellamy, however, refuses to leave Clarke, knowing that she won’t be able to make it back to shore by herself. He continues to swim them back to shore, as fast as he can while pulling Clarke and helping her keep her head above the ground.

When Bellamy reaches waist deep water, he stands up, picking Clarke up bridal style with a grunt, trying to keep his balance as the waves push at his back. A group of survivors is waiting in knee-deep water to help, but he continues past them without stopping, heading for the steep rise of the sand above the high tide line.

Clarke has still not completely recovered when a familiar voice cuts through her stupor as Bellamy lays her on the sand gently.

“Clarke!” Lexa yells in panic as she runs down the beach towards the blond.

“Lexa!” Clarke gasps, fighting against Bellamy’s hands to sit up. “There’s a woman, she was in the water!” Lexa doesn’t appear to hear Clarke’s plea, she just kneels next to Clarke and puts her hand on her shoulders to steady her, eyes weaving frantically over her body looking for injury. Clarke grabs Lexa’s shoulders in a tight grip, forcing her attention back to her face. “I couldn’t get to her. Someone needs to get her!” When Lexa doesn’t immediately take action, Clarke digs her fingers in to Lexa’s shoulders harder, trying to incite her to action.

Lexa winces as Clarke’s fingers dig even deeper into her still wounded shoulder, which causes Clarke to immediately release her in apology. Lexa stands up, shielding her eyes from the sun, trying to find the woman Clarke is talking about. Bellamy stands up next to her, looking as well, but the two struggle to locate anyone amongst the waves. Lexa spots what could be a small arm waving from several miles out, but she can’t be sure. She nudges Bellamy, and he looks at her grimly. He’s a lifeguard and would risk his life to save someone else’s, but he knows that she is too far out and the current is too strong.

Lexa turns around and bends down next to Clarke trying to calm her. “Clarke, calm down, you need to take deep breaths. Breathe with me, OK?” Lexa puts her hand on Clarke’s sternum, trying to slow Clarke’s frantic heaves.

Clarke shoves out of Lexa’s hands, looking around wildly for someone else’s help. “Lincoln!” She yells, looking for the strong, compassionate man, but she quickly looks away when his crutch reminds her that she’s injured. “Wells? Thelonious?” No one will meet her pleading eyes, not even Harper. “Bellamy?” She croaks out, but he just softly shakes his head.

Lexa gently places her hand on Clarke’s leg once again, but Clarke only pushes herself to her feet and limps away from her fellow survivors, trying to hold back her tears. 

* * *

An hour later, Clarke is back in the same spot she found herself in earlier that morning, massaging her now sore calf. This time, however, instead of thinking of her past losses, she thinks of the most recent person she couldn’t save.

Even though her gaze is focused on the waves, she can still see a skinny brunette approaching in her peripherals. A few moments later, a body settles softly next to her with a quiet sigh. When she doesn’t make any move to break the silence, Clarke does.

“What did you find out?”

Lexa’s gaze had been focused on Clarke’s side profile, but when pained blue eyes focus on her, she looks down. “Clarke…”

“Who was she, Lexa?”

Lexa forces herself to meet Clarke’s gaze, knowing from experience that it is best to just tell it to her straight. “Her name was Charlotte. She was a 16-year-old girl-” Lexa pauses as Clarke inhales deeply, returning her gaze to the ocean once more. After a moment, Lexa continues, watching Clarke closely for any signs of emotion. “Her parents died, in a fire. She was coming to America to live with her aunt.”

“She just wanted to go for a swim…She’s only a child.” Clarke mumbles, choking back her tears.

Lexa leans her shoulder into Clarke’s, just barely touching, not wanting to provide unwanted touch but at the same time wanting Clarke to know that she’s not alone. “It’s not your fault, Clarke. It was an accident. You tried to save her, but there was nothing you could do.”

Clarke freezes at Lexa’s words as they hit a little too close to home. Suddenly, she sees her father standing in the waves, right next to Finn. She jumps to her feet, in shock.

Lexa immediately follows Clarke to her feet, gazing at her in concern. “Clarke, what’s wrong?” Clarke remains still, staring at the water, so Lexa gently takes her hand. “Clarke?” She whispers softly. “Are you OK?”

Clarke darts her eyes to Lexa’s, wide and unfocused. “Did you see that? In the water, two men were right there.” Clarke points towards the spot where she had last seen her father and Finn, but nothing is there now.

            “Clarke… When was the last time you slept?” Lexa’s voice is laced with concern, which only annoys Clarke further.

            “You’re one to talk. I know you and Lincoln have both been only sleeping half the night so you can take watch.”

            “Yeah, but we are used to it. Besides, we’re talking about you, not me.” Lexa’s voice remains calm and soothing, but it isn’t helping Clarke calm down.

“I’m in residency, remember? I’m used to not sleeping too. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.” Before Lexa can say anything else, Clarke storms away, leaving a very worried brunette in her wake.

* * *

Monty hadn’t witnessed the events that had transpired earlier that morning, but he had been filled in by a despondent Harper. She was the one who had met everyone and knew the most about the survivors in general. Seeing her standing with her shoulders hunched on the beach looking out at the waves, Monty knew she was sad. He didn’t know how to help her, as they barely knew each other, but he knew something that had cheered her up previously.

After some searching through the luggage, he found what he was looking for, and walked up next to her, bending down to pet Vincent, who was sitting next to his owner’s side. When he saw what Monty had behind his back, he stood up and barked excitedly, prompting the man to throw the tennis ball down the beach for Vincent to chase.

As Monty stood back up, he saw Harper giving him a small smile as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Where did you find that?”

Monty reaches out to wipe a stray tear from her cheek away before blushing and returning her smile. “It was in the luggage. I’m surprised you didn’t find it, oomph.” Monty grunts as Vincent barrels into the back of his legs, pushing him into Harper.

Harper catches Monty and giggles as Vincent stands there panting innocently, dropping the ball behind her. When a blushing Monty is steady once again, she bends over and picks up the ball, throwing it as far as she can down the beach. Vincent takes off after the ball immediately, sand flying behind him as he runs.

Impulsively, Harper turns around and wraps Monty in a big hug, squeezing the poor man tightly. “Thank you,” she tells him, touched by the sweet gesture he had made in going out of his way to try to find something to lessen her pain, even if only for a few moments. After a moment, Monty gets over his surprise and returns the hug. They stand there like that until Vincent returns from his sprint, shoving his wet nose into their legs to get their attention.

Harper giggles and picks up the ball, but this time she shoves it into her back pocket. Suddenly shy about her impulsive display of affection, she bends down to rub a harshly panting Vincent’s ears. “I better get you some water, eh boy?” Vincent responds by licking Harper’s face, which results in her pushing him away before standing up once again.

“Your lips look dry, you could probably use some water too.” Harper tells Monty, grabbing his hand to lead him towards the supplies. Monty tries his best not to blush at the fact that Harper had been looking at his lips and was now holding his hand.

* * *

Octavia resists the urge to roll her eyes when she sees Harper and Monty walk past her holding hands. “What are we, in high school?” She mumbles, letting her anger spill over onto the two innocents. Sand kicks up onto her butt from her aggressive strides through the sand in flip-flops, so she angrily kicks them off. However, seconds later, she hurriedly shoves her feet back into them as she feels as if the hot sand is trying to burn the skin off her feet. A laugh comes from somewhere in front of her, and she looks up with a glare, only to find her target. “You!” She yells, stomping over to him.

“Me what?” Murphy asks as he looks up from his book, _Catcher in the Rye_ , and tries to look innocent.

“I know you have them!”

Murphy’s innocent façade turns into an arrogant smirk as he looks her up and down. “Ah, so Pocahontas was the first. I guess you’re not as up to living in the wild as you thought, eh?”

Octavia reaches over him and grabs his backpack, but Murphy quickly grabs the other end. The two result in a pulling match, until Murphy overpowers Octavia and pulls his backpack into his chest, wrapping his arm around it protectively.

“Ah ah ah. Not so fast. Nothing is free in this world.”

Octavia huffs in annoyance and growls at him. “Well what do you want? Unless you have a credit card machine up your ass, I can’t pay you.”

“Money is worthless here.” Murphy then outright ogles Octavia, slowly.

Octavia resists the urge to cross her arm over her chest and reaches out to punch Murphy in the face. “If you really think I would _ever_ -”

Murphy holds up his hand to protect his face and quickly shouts out, “A grand!”

“You want me to pay a thousand dollars for tampons?”

Murphy smiles sweetly at Octavia, but she just storms off with a huff. Murphy is an ass, and she isn’t going to let him win, even if she has to look through every single piece of luggage. She’s not the only girl on this island, eventually someone else is going to need them, and if Murphy really took them all, there will be no stopping them from getting what they need. Octavia tries and fails to hold in a giggle as she imagines an angry, hormonal Lexa holding Murphy at gunpoint so he will give her tampons. After a second of fantasizing of the little rat cowering in fear, she shakes her head, knocking herself out of the daydream to resume her trek towards the piles of luggage.

When she gets to the luggage, she finds Maya sorting through clothes, and so Octavia decides to plop down in the sand near her. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Maya looks up at her in surprise and keeps folding clothes. “I’m sorting impractical clothes…” Maya says as she holds up a thin tank top with spaghetti straps, “from the practical. You could use some more practical clothes, your shoulders are burning.”

Octavia looks down to see that her shoulders are indeed burning around her tank top straps. Suddenly, something smacks her in the face, and she looks up to see a giggling Maya laughing at her. Octavia mock glares at her, but then drapes the button down over her shoulders as she continues looking through the luggage.

“So what are you looking for?”

Octavia doesn’t halt her frantic search for luggage as she replies to Maya. “Tampons. Murphy wants me to pay for some that he found, but I wont give in to him.”

“What an ass!”

Octavia looks up to meet Maya’s affronted face. “I know, right? I looked through like 20 suitcases this morning and couldn’t find any. You’d think that most women would pack even a couple ‘just in case’ but I can’t find _any_. You’re so lucky that you don’t have to…” Octavia trails off when she realizes what she said and is about to apologize but Maya speaks first.

“You’re right. If there’s one good thing about being pregnant, it’s not having to worry about ruining my white pants. Until I got too big to fit into them, but that’s another story…”

Octavia laughs, glad that Maya is being so nice. She goes back to searching the luggage, until she finds a bucket hat, which she brings over to Maya and plops down on her head. “Here, you look a little sunburned too.”

Maya smiles and cinches the strap from the hat a little tighter to keep the hat on her head. “Thanks. I don’t really burn, but the heat has been bothering me.”

Octavia looks at Maya with concern. “Are you OK? Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No, it’s fine. I can go get it myself.” Before Maya can even move to get up, Octavia stands and holds out her hands for the pregnant woman to take. She helps Maya get to her feet and makes sure that she’s steady before letting go. “Thank you.” Maya tells her with a genuine smile.

“No problem. If you’re good, I’m going to continue my quest to find tampons.”

Maya giggles and waves Octavia off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Good luck!”

* * *

Clarke had found Lincoln asleep in the medical tent and decided to check on his wound. His risk for infection was high, as he had come in contact with a wild animal. As she bends down next to him, she tries to gently roll his pant leg up, but he sits straight up, knife raised. Clarke falls backwards in surprise and fear, but as soon as Lincoln processes her presence, he relaxes and lowers the knife, giving her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, but I needed to check your wound.”

“I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.” Lincoln smiles gently at Clarke and bends down to continue to roll up his pant leg to expose his bandage.

Clarke waves a hand at him and begins to gently peel off the bandage. “Don’t worry about it. I probably shouldn’t have even woke you up, I know you’re tired, but I need to keep busy after…” Clarke trails off and studiously avoids making eye contact with Lincoln as she gently cleans and examines his stitches.

Lincoln decides to wait until Clarke is rolling on his bandage before he speaks, not wanting to force her to remain speaking to him about the subject just because she is tending to his wound. “Maybe you should try getting some rest, Clarke. You’ve been through a lot in these past few days, and you _did_ almost _die_ today.”

Clarke can’t help the frown that forms on her face, even though Lincoln is just trying to help. “You sound like Lexa, now. What are you, teaming up on me?”

“No, but maybe we’re both saying it because it’s true. You look tired. Stay here, take a nap.” Lincoln pats the blanket next to him, but Clarke still looks reluctant. “I promise to wake you up if anything happens.”

Clarke closes her eyes and seems to be considering it, but then she opens them and whispers, “Every time I close my eyes, I see her waving to us, waiting for someone to come get her, but…”

“Clarke…” Lincoln sighs, understanding her pain and guilt but knowing that it’s not something he can fix; it’s something she has to come to terms with herself.

At that moment, Lexa strides into the tent followed by Monty, Harper, and Jasper, prompting Clarke to quickly stand up and wipe her eyes. Lexa fixes an intense stare on Clarke, trying to discern her feelings, but Clarke turns her back on Lexa to gather herself. The other three stand awkwardly near the entrance of the tent, sensing that they have clearly interrupted something.

“What’s up, Lex?” Lincoln asks his captain cheerfully, knowing that Clarke is still dealing with her feelings and a concerned Lexa will only escalate the situation.

Lexa tears her gaze away from Clarke to bring her attention back to the reason she came here. “So I had a question about the water rationing. You put Bellamy in charge, right?”

Lincoln thinks for a moment and nods. “Yeah, I mean technically you did, but I helped him. There wasn’t much to do, just count what we had left, hand out people’s rations, and collect water in tarps when it rained.”

Lexa sighs, and rubs her temples. “He did everything right, except tell us when we were dangerously low on water.”

At this statement, Clarke turns around. “What? That’s not possible. We have tons of bottles, and it’s been raining.”

“It hasn’t rained in a couple days. People need to drink at least a liter of water a day, more when they are sweating in the sun like we are-”

“I know, _Lexa_. I’m a doctor.” Clarke growls at the brunette.

“How many bottles do we have left?” Lincoln quickly asks, trying to stop the brewing fight.

“Eighteen.” Monty chimes in, stepping farther into the tent. “Each bottle is 750 mL, so that’s… 13.5 liters.”

“That’s not enough for 47 people, even if we all share it.” Harper laments.

“Forty-six.” Everyone turns to look at Clarke, startled by her cold tone. “There’s 46 of us now.”

“People are going to freak out when they find out there’s no water left.” Jasper moans.

“Hey, what’s all the shouting going on in here? I could hear it all the way from my tent.” Raven hobbles in on one crutch with a piece of dried boar in the other hand.

“Raven, you’re right next door.” Jasper teases. “Now, wanna give me a bite of your bacon?”

Raven almost falls as she tries to protect her snack from the scrawny man, but Harper grabs her arm to stead her. “No way. There’s not much left, I had to grab it while I still could.”

“The boar’s running out too?” Harper’s voice is laced with considerable more alarm now.

Raven’s brow wrinkles in concern. “Too, what else is running out?”

Lexa can’t help but retort. This is why people are on a need-to-know-basis, she doesn’t want to go through panic and long, useless conversation every time she deals with a crisis. “Don’t worry about it, we’re handling it.”

Raven’s sunny disposition disappears as she fixes a glare on Lexa. “That seems to be a common theme with you lately.”

“Hey, maybe Vincent can find water!” Jasper shouts excitedly. “Dogs can find bombs and drugs and guns, he has to be able to find water!”

Harper groans and whacks Jasper on the back of the head. “They train them for years to do that.”

“What about a water stick…”

“Can we drink sea water…”

“No you idiot, that only makes you thirstier…”

“Why is most of the water on this planet undrinkable…”

Lexa is not amused by this discussion, and she lets it show on her face when she meets Lincoln’s gaze. He can’t hold in his smirk; he is amused by the group’s well-meaning antics. Lexa, however, just rolls her eyes and raises her voice. “Everyone, calm down. Wells and I will go hunting again. Boars need to drink too, so we should be able to follow them to their water source. It will solve both our problems at once.”

Clarke scoffs. “Because that worked out so well for you last time. Every time we have gone into the jungle, someone has died or been injured.”

Lexa can’t help but snap at the blonde. She is running on little sleep and trying to keep everyone alive, she doesn’t need one of the few people she trusts questioning her decisions. “Do you have a better idea, _Klark_?”

Clarke tries to think of another solution, but she can’t, and this only angers her further. Lexa does not need to go risking her life in the jungle again. And Wells shouldn’t either. She doesn’t want to lose more people after today; she _can’t_ lose more people.

“Hey, Clarke, I was wondering, did you happen to find any tampons in the luggage that you confiscated for medicinal use?”

Octavia’s entrance saves Clarke from having to answer, but also pushes her over the edge. The stress of the past few days, the stress that normally surrounds her this time of year, and the stress of trying and failing to keep everyone alive break her after one more request. Without another word, Clarke storms out of the tent livid with anger, pushing past Octavia to get away from them all.

Everyone is shocked, and they all turn to Lexa, waiting to see her response. Lexa stares forlornly at Clarke’s retreating figure, but doesn’t move from the tent. When she catches the questioning looks from the others, she tells them, “Give her some space. She just needs some time to cool off.”

* * *

            _After being taken to the principal’s office, Clarke’s parents had been called. She and Wells sat side-by-side, waiting for their parents to arrive, as the principal spoke first with them and then with the two older boys. Wells’ father had arrived first as he worked nearby, but Clarke’s father had soon followed. He had fussed over her split lip and bruising cheek bone, immediately demanding ice for his daughter. After the bullies’ parents arrived, all the parents met with the principal and spoke for several moments. The children sat in silence, waiting for their fates. After several long moments and some raised voices, Clarke’s father had stormed out, taken Clarke’s hand, and led her to the parking lot._

_Scared that her father was angry with her and that she was in trouble, Clarke had followed silently, waiting for her punishment. Clarke’s father had opened the door for her and waited for her to get inside, and at that moment, Clarke couldn’t hold it in anymore._

_“I’m sorry, Daddy. They were hurting him.”_

_At seeing his little girl’s tears, Jake quickly pulls her into a hug. “It’s OK, sweetie. It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at them. You were just protecting your friend. Those boys should be kicked out of school.” Clarke cries for another moment in relief but soon stops, and Jake pulls away to wipe away her tears._

_Jake smiles at her and buckles her in, even though she’s more than old enough to do it herself. He gently closes the door and gets in the driver seat, starting the car and pulling out of the school. “The principal gave everyone a mandatory 3 day suspension. The school has a zero tolerance policy on fighting. So looks like it’ll be just you and me for the next three days, kid. Any ideas on what you want to do first?”_

_Clarke sniffles and thinks a little bit, before she tentatively asking, “Ice-cream?”_

_Jake laughs but gets in the left lane and makes a U-turn away from their house towards a diner he had seen a few days ago. “Lunch first, then ice-cream. OK kiddo?”_

_Clarke cheers in the back seat as her father laughs at her childish excitement._

* * *

_It is late that same night and Clarke is almost asleep when she feels a tender hand gently brush over her bruised cheek. Blearily, she blinks her eyes until she recognizes the form sitting on her bed from the light shining in from the hall._

_“Mommy!” Clarke shouts as she half sits up to hug her mom._

_“Hey baby. I’m sorry I couldn’t get home sooner, it was my first day, and there was a surgery they needed me for.”_

_“It’s OK.” Clarke sighs into Abby’s neck, used to her mother getting stuck in surgery._

_Abby pulls away to check Clarke’s face over once more, just to reassure herself that everything is really OK. “Your Dad told me what happened, Clarke.”_

_Clarke looks down at her lap, hearing the disappointment in her mother’s voice, and tries not to cry._

_Abby gently places her finger under Clarke’s chin to make eye contact with her. “Clarke, I’m really disappointed in you. A fight? And on your first day of school? There are better solutions than your fists. You could have really gotten hurt today.”_

_“But Mom, they were hurting him. I couldn’t just stand there!” Clarke’s voice cracks at the end of her sentence, and she turns her head away to angrily wipe at her tears._

_Abby sights and pulls Clarke in for a hug, gently rubbing her back as she coos. “Baby I know. But I was so worried when I heard. I don’t want you fighting anymore, OK? You can use your words, or go get a teacher, but please no more fighting.” Abby gently runs her fingers over Clarke’s hand, searching for bruised knuckles. “I want you to use these hands to create or to heal, not to punch people, OK?”_

_“I didn’t use my fists.” Clarke grumbles, looking down at her hands._

_“What was that?” Abby asks her daughter gently._

_“I didn’t punch anyone, Mom. I kicked him in the nuts, just like Daddy told me to.”_

_“That’s my girl!” Jake chuckles proudly from the doorway._

_“Jake!” Abby hisses, but is unable to completely hide her own smile._

_Jake holds up his hands in defense, trying to appease his wife. “I know, I know. Fighting is never the answer. Promise you won’t ever do it again, kiddo?”_

_Clarke nods vehemently and holds up both her pinky fingers. “I pinky swear!”_

_Abby quickly locks her larger pinky finger with Clarke’s smaller one, and the two stare expectantly at Jake, who after a moment, walks over and locks his biggest finger with Clarke’s other pinky. All three twist their hands at the same time, sealing the deal, and let go with a giggle._

_“Now, I know you aren’t going to be in school for the next three days, and your Dad is going to stay home with you…” Jake and Clarke cheer loudly, but stop once Abby gives them a stern look. “But it’s not going to be all fun and games. You did get into a fight, Clarke. On your first day of school, no less. We are going to punish you.”_

_Clarke pouts, hoping to get out of her punishment, but Abby refuses to give in to her only daughter’s quivering lower lip. Jake, however, can’t stand to see either of his girls upset, so he holds up his hand and loudly whispers to Clarke, “We’re going to play with puppies.”_

_“Puppies? We’re going to play with puppies!” Clarke squeals in happiness and jumps up and down in her seated position in her excitement._

_Abby rolls her eyes and gently chastises her husband. “No, tomorrow you and your father are going to_ volunteer _as part of your punishment. There’s a humane society down the street, I’m sure they could use your help.”_

_Jake ignores his wife and whispers again, “We’re going to play with puppies.”_

_Clarke laughs at her dad but suddenly her eyes go wide. “Can we get one?”_

_Jake’s laughter trails off, and he looks at Abby with wide eyes. Abby glares at him but when he doesn’t look like he’s going to answer, she leans forward to press a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. “Maybe when you’re older, OK? Now it’s time to go to sleep, you’ve had a long day.”_

_“Please Mom, I promise I’ll take care of it, and walk it, and play with it? Pleeeeeease?” Clarke begs as she lays back and lets her Mom tuck her in._

_“We’ll talk about it when you’re older, OK? Now it’s time for bed.” Abby and Jake wait until Clarke has stopped shuffling around and is lying quietly under the covers. At the same time, they lean down on either side of her and press a kiss to her cheeks, whispering simultaneously “I love you baby girl.”_

_“Love you too.” Clarke whispers through her yawn, smiling in contentment as her parents as they close the door quietly behind her._

_Once the door is closed and the two parents are down the hall in their own room, Abby turns to Jake. “A puppy, really, Jake?”_

_He laughs and pulls her into a hug, letting her sink against his chest. “Maybe it will be good for her. Teach her responsibility and how to care for something else.”_

_Abby sniffles as she clings to Jake tighter. “I had a young boy on my table today, around Clarke’s age. His father was drunk, and he beat him, badly. I couldn’t save him… My phone was off, for the surgery, and I know if something was really wrong you would have gotten ahold of me, but when I heard your message, I just…” Abby lets out a sob as Jake rubs her back soothingly and whispers assurances into her hair. When she’s finally settled down, Abby pulls back to look into Jake’s blue eyes, so similar to their daughter’s. “I just don’t want her to put herself in danger like that.”_

_Jake chuckles and brings his hand from Abby’s lower back up to her cheek, cupping it softly and using his thumb to brush away her tears. “She takes after her mother like that. Rushing in to save everyone, regardless of herself. She has a big heart.”_

_Abby smiles and leans up to press a gentle kiss to her husband’s lips. After a long, tender moment, she pulls away with a sigh and returns her head to his chest, taking comfort in the sound of his strong heartbeat. “I don’t want her to get hurt. And as much as I would love if she took after me and became a doctor, part of me doesn’t want our sweet girl to learn the hard truth that you can’t save everyone.”_

* * *

            As Clarke stormed away from the tent, she had no destination in mind, just _away_. However, as soon as she spots Bellamy rummaging through a suitcase, she heads straight for him. “Hey!” Bellamy looks up in surprise, shielding his eyes from the sun to see who had yelled at him. Clarke strides up to Bellamy and pushes his chest in anger.

Surprised, Bellamy almost falls onto his ass, but windmills his arms to stay upright. “What the hell, Clarke?”

            “Why didn’t you leave me?”

            Bellamy steps forward with his hands out, trying to soothe the angry woman. “Clarke…”

            Clarke slaps his hands away and doesn’t back down. “I could have made it back to the beach on my own.”

            “Clarke, maybe we shouldn’t do this here…” Bellamy looks around to see that other survivors have stopped their actions to watch Clarke’s break down.

            “I told you to leave me!” Clarke yells, stepping forward and pushing Bellamy again to draw his attention back to her.

            Hot and stressed from the events of the day, Bellamy can’t keep his own anger in check, stepping forward to angrily growl at the blonde, “You were drowning, Clarke! I couldn’t just leave you!”

            “You should have saved her.” Clarke hisses, voice low as she is only inches away from Bellamy.

            “But I didn’t save her. And neither did _you_.” Bellamy’s words strike a cord in Clarke, and she freezes, mouth wide in shock. She takes a step backwards as the curly haired men advances closer. “You’re not the only one who knows what they’re doing around here.”

            Clarke’s emotions flare higher than before; everything is just too much for her to take, and with everyone staring at her, including an angry Bellamy, she looks around for an escape route. When she catches sight of a familiar head of floppy brown hair over Bellamy’s shoulder, she takes off running towards the jungle, away from the heat of the beach and the accusing eyes.

            No one stops her as she pushes runs past them at a full sprint, sand kicking up from her feet. When she bursts through the edge of the jungle, she is once again assaulted with green all around her. As her eyes try to adjust to the sudden decrease in light, Clarke trips over a stick, falling to her hands and knees in the mixture of sand and dirt; the purgatory between the jungle and the beach.

            Clarke quickly staggers to her feet and is met with the familiar soft, brown eyes that used to be so comforting. “Finn?” Clarke gasps, blinking away the white spots in her vision. She sits there, catching her breath and trying to believe what is happening, but then Finn sends her his trademark smirk and turns around, walking into the forest. As soon as he disappears, Clarke jumps to her feet and chases after him, crashing through the bushes without a care for what might hear her.

* * *

            _Clarke and Finn had spent the whole afternoon hanging out with Wells at the creek. At first, Wells had seemed stiff and apprehensive, but he had soon returned to his normal self, laughing at Clarke and even teaming up with her to push Finn into the river. Clarke takes a deep breath and lets it out in sigh as she stretches out on her bed, thinking of how much is going to change in the next few years. No more lazy days at the river; soon enough, she will be interviewing for medical school and then studying constantly in medical school, then residency… She can’t help but feel a little tired from the sun and thinking of all the work she has ahead of her before she can actually practice medicine._

_A knock sounds on the door, startling Clarke upright._

_“Hey Princess.” Finn grins at her as he leans against the door, hair hanging down wet from his recent shower._

_“Hey.” Clarke murmurs, scooting over on her bed and patting the empty space for her boyfriend to come lay next to her. Her parents had made them stay in separate rooms, even though they had spent plenty of nights together at college, so Clarke was missing the physical closeness of her boyfriend._

_Finn lies down next to her, propping his torso up on the pillows, and pulls Clarke closer to lay her head on his chest. Clarke sighs in contentment as she wraps her arms around his waist and snuggles in, shifting her head on his chest to listen to his strong heartbeat._

_“What’s got you sighing so sadly?” Finn asks as he starts running one hand through her still wet blonde tresses, stopping every once in a while to scratch her scalp._

_“Hmmmm.” Clarke hums in contentment and snuggles closer, basking in Finn’s care. “Nothing, just thinking.”_

_Finn slides his hand down Clarke’s cheek, along her jaw down to her chin, which he tilts up gently. “Thinking about what?”_

_“Medical school.”_

_“I thought you finished all your applications?”_

_Clarke sighs and drops her forehead onto Finn’s chest. “I did, it’s just… My mom has been putting so much pressure on me these past few months about applications and studying for the MCAT… It’s like she doesn’t think I can do it.”_

_“Clarke, you know that’s not true. Your mom knows firsthand how hard medical school is, she probably just wants you to be prepared. You know how much your parents love you.”_

_Clarke groans. “Yeah I know, I just wish she would let me breathe for a minute. This is probably my last summer where I won’t be doing an internship or studying, and now that my applications are finished, I just want to enjoy it.”_

_Finn slowly drags his free hand down Clarke’s side to her hip, softly caressing it. “Well then lets start enjoying it.”_

_Clarke lifts her head up to meet Finn’s suggestive smile, which prompts her to roll her body on top of his, resting her weight completely on his body. Clarke leans in, mumbling, “I love you” against Finn’s lips as she kisses him slowly. After a moment, when the two pull back to catch their breath, Finn whispers “I love you too,” before tangling his hand in Clarke’s blonde tresses to pull her closer and deepen the kiss. Clarke moans into Finn’s mouth as their tongues meet, but her moan of pleasure quickly turns to a groan of annoyance as she hears the front door open and close._

_“My parents are home.” Clarke pouts, which only prompts a laugh from Finn. In retaliation, Clarke makes sure her knee drives into Finn’s thigh when she rolls off him._

_Finn groans exaggeratedly, grabbing his thigh in mock pain. “C’mon, Princess. Don’t be so cruel.”_

_With a smile, Clarke leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek before whispering, “I promise to kiss it better later tonight, after my parents are in bed.” Finn’s eyes widen, and Clarke leaves him sitting on the bed trying to tone down his reaction to Clarke’s suggestion._

* * *

            After Clarke had stormed away, Lexa had remained in the medical tent to discuss with Lincoln her plans for rectifying the water situation. They had agreed that it was best not to alert anyone to their limited supplies, and they should confiscate the remaining water for use in an emergency. Lincoln had told Lexa that he and Octavia would take care of the water while she went to speak with Wells about hunting.

            Wells had agreed with Lexa about finding water and more boar, so she had started packing supplies while he told his father where he was going. They couldn’t come back empty handed, even if they had to spend several days tracking boar in the forest in search of their water source, so Lexa made sure to pack the protein bars she had left, matches, an extra shirt, the gun, and some basic medical supplies. Just as she is closing her backpack, Harper comes running up to her.

            “Lexa! It’s Maya, she fainted.”

            Lexa immediately jumps to her feet and runs towards the medical tent, where she can see Jasper and Wells carrying Maya into the tent, followed closely by a hobbling Lincoln. “Go find Clarke!” She calls over her shoulder to the blonde, hoping that Clarke would react better to Harper than to herself.

            When Lexa reaches the tent, she throws open the flap and strides in, immediately demanding, “What happened?”

            “I was talking to her and just passed out.” Jasper replies as he and Wells gently lay Maya on some airline cusions.

            “Did she hit her head?” Lexa grabs Maya’s chin and pushes it to open her airway, then uses two fingers to check for a pulse.

            Jasper kneels down on the other side of Maya, nervously jabbering. “No, I don’t think so. I caught her, and the sand’s soft. Is she OK? Is the baby OK?”

            “Her pulse is weak but it’s there, and she’s breathing. It’s probably the heat.”  
            “Where’s Clarke?” Lincoln asks from Maya’s feet, where he is untying her shoes and slipping them off her feet.

            “I don’t know. Harper went to find her. Wells, I need you to prop the tent flaps open, especially the ones facing the water, we need to get as much of a breeze flowing through here as we can.” Lexa turns her attention back to Maya, cupping her head with one hand and smoothing her dark hair away from her face and neck. “Maya. Maya, wake up.” When Maya doesn’t respond, Lexa starts gently patting her cheeks. “Maya, I need you to wake up.” Maya groans faintly and turns her head, but Lexa keeps patting her cheeks. “Maya, can you hear me? I need you to wake up.” Finally, Maya opens her eyes, dark brown standing out against her pale cheeks.

            “What happened?” Maya mumbles, looking around in confusion at all the people staring at her.

            “You passed out. Try to relax, OK?” Maya nods her head and closes her eyes, leaning back. Lexa moves her hand from Maya’s cheek to her forehead, feeling the temperature with the back of her hand. “Maya, I think you have a fever, have you been feeling unwell?” Maya shakes her head and groans, shifting around trying to get relief for her hot, sticky skin. “That’s good, just relax, we’re going to cool you down.” Lexa looks pointedly at Jasper, indicating with her head that he should take over.

            Jasper takes Maya’s hand and starts using his hand to fan her face. “Don’t worry Maya, everything’s going to be fine. Clarke will be here soon.”

Jasper continues mumbling to Maya as Lexa stands to go speak with Lincoln and Wells. “She needs water. Lincoln, where did you put what we have left?”

            “Octavia and were on the way when Maya fainted. I told her to grab it while I stayed with her.”

            Lexa nods and turns to leave, but Octavia bursts into the tent, face set in a scowl. She glances over at Maya, and seeing that the girl is awake, heads straight towards Lincoln, Lexa, and Wells.

            “We’ve got a problem. The water is missing.” She murmurs in a low voice, face grim.

            Before Octavia can explain further, Harper bursts into the tent, face filled with worry. “I can’t find Clarke.”

            Lexa immediately bursts into action, striding towards Harper. On her way, she glances at Maya and Jasper to see if they have heard, but Maya still seems groggy and Jasper is focused completely on her. Wells, however, looks alarmed. Lexa grabs Harper by the arm and leads her out of the tent and down the beach a few yards away from the tent and the rest of the survivors.

            “Where did you look? She can’t be _gone_ , there’s nowhere for her to go.”

            Harper glares at Lexa, and is about to yell at her for the rough treatment until Wells, Lincoln, and Octavia arrive. Harper sighs when she sees the worry on their faces, and although Lexa shows no sign of emotion, Harper knows that she and Clarke were close. “I looked everywhere for her. No one has seen her since she yelled at Bellamy and took off into the jungle.”

            Lexa’s face shifts from stoic to determined in half a second. “Perfect. I’ve been meaning to have a talk with him about the water anyways.” She turns to storm off, but Lincoln grabs her arm.

            “Lexa, you know it’s not his fault about the water, he’s never done this before. And before you go blaming yourself, don’t. We can’t be everywhere and do everything.”

            “Yeah, but I should have known not to keep all our supplies in one place.”

            Octavia doesn’t know how the water situation is her brother’s fault, and although he has been annoying her lately, he’s still her brother and she will do anything she can to protect him, even trying to fix his mistakes. “I can go into the jungle, try to find fresh water.”

            Lincoln shifts his focus from Lexa to Octavia. “You can’t go in there alone; it’s dangerous.”

           “Well Clarke is in there alone.” Octavia chances a quick glance to Lexa’s face and internally winces when she sees it flash with pain, but she continues on. “If Lexa and Wells are looking for her, then I can find water. And you can’t come because of your leg.”

            “Wait, we can’t just all disappear into the jungle.” Wells interrupts. “When everyone finds out that the water is gone, they are going to panic. And when they find out that someone stole it… It’s going to get worse.”

            Lexa takes a deep breath and sighs, thinking through the situation. “Lincoln and Wells are both right. We can’t go into the jungle alone, and we can’t leave camp with no leadership.”

            “So what do we do? Wait here for Clarke to just stroll back into camp? Wait for it to rain?” Octavia hotly questions Lexa.

            Lexa shakes her head at Octavia and looks down at her feet, trying to hide the hint of a smile. Lincoln has his work cut out for him with this fiery woman. “Lincoln and I should stay. If Maya needs help we have some medical training, and if people get violent the two of us should be able to handle it. Octavia, you can’t go into the jungle alone, you have no training.” Octavia tries to protest, but Lexa cuts her off. “Whoever stole the water is here in camp. You can start looking here.” Octavia looks pleased and takes off immediately; ready to unleash her wrath upon the thief.

            “I’m going after Clarke. I don’t care if I have to go alone, but we can’t just leave her out there.” Wells declares, allowing no room for argument.

            “You’re right, someone does have to go after Clarke. We need her.” Lexa just wishes it could be her going after the blonde. “But you shouldn’t go alone. Can you take your father? You two obviously weren’t visiting Australia just to go to the beach.”

Wells considers it for a moment, and then nods his head in confirmation. “I will keep an eye out for tracks and water, but Clarke is my priority.”

Lexa nods her head in acknowledgement before turning away to go check on Maya once more. “Good hunting.”

* * *

Clarke slows down from her sprint after a few moments in order to catch her breath and look around; she hadn’t seen Finn since he had disappeared into the jungle. As a doctor, she knows that bending over with her hands on her knees is not the advised way to catch her breath, but she’s so _tired_ and it feels good. After a moment, she forces her torso to straighten and bends her elbows to put her hands behind her head, opening her chest cavity to better suck in air. As she pants harshly, she spins in circles, looking for any sign of Finn or her father.

After making several circles, she loses track of which direction she came from, and ends up picking one at random, as she picks up a jog through the forest. The forest floor is soft with decaying plant matter, quickly tiring her calves as her feet sink in slightly with every step. Clarke ignores the burn and uses her arms to help her, grabbing thin trees and branches as she passes by them, using them to stabilize her tired form and better propel herself through the masses of green foliage.

As Clarke pushes through a particularly dense patch of foliage, she hisses as the leaves scratch her exposed arms and cuts from the crash, but ignores it to force herself through the jungle and into a clearing. The foliage is low growing here and sun shines down into the middle. Clarke tentatively walks into the center, standing right in the middle of the clearing, and looks up at the blue sky.

“Where are you?” She yells to the heavens, but gets no answer other than the startled calls of birds.

Clarke redirects her gaze to the forest, slowly turning around and looking for any sign of life. “Where are you?” She whispers, pleading with no one. A tear rolls down her face, and she quickly swipes it away as she screams, “Where are you?”

* * *

           _“Clarke, where are you?” Clarke groans, wishing she hadn’t answered her phone without looking at the caller ID. “I heard that.”_

_Clarke sighs and sets down her bag in front of the ticket counter, rolling her eyes in annoyance at the call and mouthing ‘sorry’ to the worker as she hands over her ID and ticket, who only gives her a sympathetic glance in return and starts typing on the computer. “I’m at the airport, Mom.”_

_“The airport? Clarke, where are you going?”_

_The worker hands Clarke back her ticket and ID and motions for Clarke to put her suitcase on the scale. “Mom, hold on for a minute.” Clarke tucks her phone between her ear and shoulder as she heaves her two suitcases on one at a time, grunting at their weight. She had packed everything she could fit into them and still ended up smashing more things into her carry-on bag and her purse. When the worker puts the luggage tags on Clarke’s bag, Clarke sends her a grateful smile and turns to head towards security, grabbing her phone with her hand again._

_“I’m going to Australia.”_

_“You’re what? Clarke, where is this coming from? Can you come back home so we can talk about this?”_

_“No Mom, I can’t. My flight leaves in an hour.”_

_“Clarke, honey, please. Don’t just run off on a whim. Think this through.”_

_Clarke gets in line and drops her heavy carry-on bag on the ground angrily, ignoring the concerned looks of the other passengers. “I have thought this through. I have been thinking about it for weeks, which you would know if you were home.”_

_Abby pauses, unsure what to say. “Clarke… I’m sorry I haven’t been home as much as you needed me to be. But the hospital… I’ve been under a lot of pressure, and with what happened, I just couldn’t… ”_

_“Home as much as I needed you? You’ve barely been home at all!” Clarke sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, kicking her bag forward as the line moves. “I can’t stay there, in that empty house. I can’t walk through the doors of that hospital where… I just can’t do this anymore!” Clarke can hear a sob from the other side of the phone and feels her own tears well up, but she pushes them back down._

_“Please, Clarke. Don’t go. You’ll be throwing away your career.” Abby pauses for a moment, knowing she’s said the wrong thing once again. “I need you to stay. I… I can’t lose you too.”_

_“You don’t get to tell me what to do, not after what you did!” Clarke angrily hisses. She finally reaches the front of the line and hands over her ID and boarding pass to the TSA agent. “I’m about to go through security. I’ll text you when I land. And don’t worry; I’m not throwing away my career. I had offers from several hospitals; apparently, just the Griffin name is enough to get me interviews at every top hospital in the country.” Without waiting for a response, Clarke hangs up the phone and turns it off, heading towards security and her clean slate._

* * *

         The sun is no longer overhead, and Clarke is now walking parallel to it, keeping it over her right shoulder as she heads deeper into the jungle. After catching her breath in the clearing, she knew that it was quite possible that she was just running in circles before. At least now she knows she is headed in more or less one general direction. This didn’t seem to help her, however, as she still had not caught sight of anyone else in the jungle.

As Clarke steps around a big tree, she freezes as she catches sight of the man who had given her her blue eyes. “Dad?”

Jake smiles at her, but doesn’t say a word to her. Tears start rolling down Clarke’s face as she slowly steps towards him. Upon seeing her tears, Jake gives Clarke a sympathetic smile, but doesn’t say a word, simply turns around and walks into the jungle.

            “Dad!” Clarke wails, not wanting to lose sight of him again. She picks up a jog again, feeling her heart rate pick up again after only a few seconds; her body is exhausted, but she continues to push it.

            Clarke pushes through some bushes and thinks she catches sight of his brown hair to her right, so she changes direction. She finds herself on what must be an animal path, which allows her to run much quicker on the hard packed dirt. Clarke picks up speed, pumping her arms hard to run faster.

            At the speed Clarke is going, she misses the sharp turn the path takes, and in her exhausted state, Clarke is unable to stop herself. She trips over a log as she crashes through the bushes, flying over it and landing upside down on her shoulder blades. Unfortunately for her, the path turned because of a steep hill, which Clarke now finds herself sliding and rolling down. She reaches out trying to grab onto branches and grasses, but only succeeds in ripping them up and tearing the skin on her hands.

            Clarke feels herself slide out of the bushes and onto dirt and tries to stop herself, but only manages to slow herself down somewhat. As soon as she sees that she’s about to slide off a cliff, she digs her heels in harder but this only succeeds in flipping her torso over her feet, catapulting her over the edge. As she flies through the air, Clarke grabs a root hanging just under the lip of the edge of the cliff and holds on as tight as she can. As her legs fly over her torso, her arms jerk the root hard, dragging it down a few feet, but fortunately it holds. When she realizes that she’s not falling, she looks down to find herself at least a hundred feet in the air over sharp rocks.

            “Fuck.” Clarke hisses, squeezing her eyes tight and tightening her grip on the root holding her up in the air. She isn’t particularly afraid of heights, but she’s sure anyone hanging over certain death would be just as terrified.

            Clarke bites her lip hard, holding her breath, then harshly pants out “One.” Then she opens her eyes. “Two.” She relaxes her body. “Three.” She looks around, checking her surroundings for anything in reach that could help her. Unfortunately, there is nothing. “Four.” She stutters out. Her breathing picks up again, but she quickly forces herself to take deep breaths and slow her heart rate. “Five.”

            Clarke takes a deep breath and lets go with her right hand, twisting her body around and latching back on so that she is now facing the cliff. She pulls herself up so that she can wedge her right elbow between the root and the cliff and finds a ledge with her left foot, giving her hands a break. Beyond that, she doesn’t know what she’s going to do. She’s already tired from running through the jungle, she can’t reach the top of the cliff, and there are no ledges nearby. Suddenly, the root shifts downward a few inches, jerking Clarke. She grabs onto it tighter, but her hands are sweaty and slipping. Dirt showers her face as more of the root starts ripping from the ground, and she looks around frantically for another option to pull herself up with, but finds none.

            Clarke shifts her gaze to the beautiful blue sky, wanting to see it one last time. “See you soon, Dad.” She whispers, closing her eyes as dirt continues to pour into them.

* * *

           Wells and Thelonious had been marching through the jungle for about an hour when they follow Clarke’s tracks onto a hard packed dirt path. Wells bends down, searching for footprints and other disturbances, but it appears well traveled by several types of animals. Wells walks down one direction searching for any sign of Clarke nearby, but after a hundred feet he finds nothing and turns back around to start the other direction. Thelonious remains standing on the path the spot they had entered, pondering their options.

            “I can’t find any sign of her.” Wells laments as he heads back towards his father. “Let’s start one way, and if we don’t find her we can try the other way.”

            “Why don’t we split up?” When Thelonious sees the immediate frown form on his son’s face, he rushes to explain. “It makes the most sense. You go one way, I’ll go the other, and whoever doesn’t come across her trail turns back around to find the other.”

            “No. We shouldn’t split up; it’s dangerous in these woods. Not to mention you don’t have much experience hunting. You could pass by her trail and not notice it.”

            Wells makes all good points, and Thelonious knows that his son won’t be swayed by reason, so he plays to his son’s weakness. “What if Clarke is out there, hurt and dying? This will allow us to find her faster.” A brief flash of worry crosses Wells’ face, and Thelonious knows he has won. “If it makes you feel better, I can take the direction back towards camp. It should be safer that direction. She’s been crashing through the jungle like an elephant, I’m sure I won’t have trouble finding her trail if she’s gone this way.” Thelonious punctuates his last words with a smile

Wells chuckles, as Clarke had barreled through the forest as if she were on a mission and completely unaware of her surroundings. “Alright, but if you hear anything, run straight back to camp. If you don’t find anything after half an hour, start walking back this direction.” Wells pulls a bandanna from his backpack and ties it to a tree, marking their meeting place.

Thelonious nods and steps forward, giving his son a strong hug. “Be safe.”

“You too.” Wells tells his father as he returns the hug and then turns to head off in the opposite direction from his father.

Thelonious strolls down the path at a brisk pace, eyes alert and scanning the foliage on either side for any sign of Clarke. After a few minutes, the path bends sharply, and he turns with it. However, he stops when he sees fresh dirt kicked over the path. He bends down to examine it closer, wondering what it could mean, when he finds that there is a chunk taken out of the top of a nearby log. The wood is still a light color, so he knows that the piece broke off recently.

Thelonious stands up and carefully steps over the log, looking for any further signs of recent disturbances. Several yards down the slope there is a large disturbed area and then a trail down the hill as if something had slid down. Concerned now that Clarke may have fallen down the hill, he quickly but carefully picks his way down, following the trail left unknowingly for him. When he reaches the bottom, he finds a two deep holes in the dirt right before a cliff and then nothing.

Panicking now, Thelonious runs to the edge of the cliff and lays down on his stomach, peering over the edge. When he sees Clarke about to slip off a branch, he sticks his hand out as far as it can go. “Clarke!”

            Clarke looks up, trying to blink the dirt from her eyes. She doesn’t need her full sight to recognize the voice, however. “Thelonious?”

            “Clarke! Take my hand!” Thelonious orders, seeing that Clarke is tired and still slipping. Clarke grunts and scrabbles against the side of the cliff with her legs to help her lunge upwards and grab his hand. With Clarke’s extra weight, Thelonious is forced to grab onto a nearby tree with his other hand in order to keep both of them from falling to their deaths. “Quickly, Clarke. I can’t hold on for long.”

            Clarke takes a deep breath and pulls herself up using Thelonious’ hand, digging her legs and her free hand into the side of the cliff as best she can. Her right foot slips out from under her but she only digs her right hand in further, ignoring the pain that shoots through her fingernails as they scrape against rock.

            Thelonious heaves Clarke up, allowing her to get one hand on the edge of the cliff. Clarke slides her hand up Thelonious’ arm so that she is now gripping his forearm, and he returns the favor, rolling to his side so he can brace himself with his legs and pull Clarke with both hands. As Thelonious pulls her further up, Clarke swings one leg over the top and uses it to push herself forward, collapsing in a heaving mess on top of Thelonious.

            After they both breathe for a moment, Thelonious opens his eyes to a mess of blonde hair. “Are you OK, Clarke?”

            Clarke rolls off Thelonious and onto her back, opening her eyes to gaze at the deep blue of the sky. Then she starts to laugh, only somewhat hysterically.

* * *

        Octavia had already made her rounds through camp, questioning everyone and looking in every possible hiding place for water. She hadn’t found the stash of water or the thief, but she had been able to find a small cup of water, which she decided to immediately bring to Maya. As she passes a small group of people, she hears them yelling angrily at Lexa, who is trying to soothe their worries. Octavia winces, knowing that her search for the thief had probably riled them up, but trusts that Lexa can handle it and continues on her way to the medical tent.

            When she arrives, she finds Jasper at Maya’s side fanning her with a makeshift fan and Lincoln on the other, speaking in low, soothing tones, although Maya appears to be asleep. Octavia pauses, taking in how gentle Lincoln is being with the pregnant girl, until he senses her gaze and turns to make eye contact.

            Octavia sends him a small smile and walks towards him, holding out the cup of water. “Here, I know it’s not a lot, but it’s all I could get.”

            Lincoln carefully takes the cup from her with a thankful smile. “Thank you. Anything will help at this point.” Lincoln turns back to Maya and gently squeezes her shoulder to wake her up. “Maya, we have some water for you.”

            Maya slowly opens her eyes and tries to sit up. Lincoln and Jasper quickly reach out to help her, gently supporting her back as she pushes herself upright and props herself up. “How long was I asleep for?” Maya asks, rubbing her eyes.

            “A couple hours.” Jasper smiles at her. “Octavia found some water for you.”

            Maya shifts her gaze to Octavia who is now kneeling at her feet, sending her a weary yet grateful smile. “Thank you.”

            Lincoln holds out the cup to Maya, who grabs it and greedily drinks it all in one sip before relaxing back against the cushions once more.

            “No problem at all.” Octavia tells the woman, gently squeezing her calf to make her point.

            “Did you guys find Clarke yet?” Maya asks tentatively, genuinely worried about the doctor but also desperately wanting her medical reassurance.

            “Wells and Thelonious are out looking for her, water, and boar. Just relax and try not to worry. We’re taking care of everything. You just need to focus on resting and getting better.” Lincoln tries to soothe Maya.

            “Yeah, you have to think of the little bun in the oven. Don’t want it to get too crispy.”

            “Jasper!” Octavia scolds, but lets herself smile when Maya starts giggling.

            “What? Personally, I would feel relieved knowing that I have two men literally armed with an entire suitcase full of knives out scouring the jungle to bring me back food and water, but that’s just me.” Jasper defends himself from Octavia.

            “So the only people who know how to hunt are going to get lost or eaten trying to bring the pregnant girl water? Such a relief.” Maya teases him, throwing in a wink.

            “What are you talking about? We have our own Pocahontas right here! We aren’t going to starve.” Jasper is too busy smiling at Maya to realize that Octavia has moved closer so that she can push him over into the sand, eliciting another laugh from Maya.

            Octavia smiles as she watches Jasper and Maya go back and forth, playfully bantering. When she looks over at Lincoln to check his reaction, she finds him smiling as well, but when he motions towards the tent flap with his head, Octavia stands up and follows him out.

            After walking a few feet away from the tent so as not to be overheard, he questions her. “Did you find anything?”

            “No.” Octavia sighs.

            “Well someone had to have taken it. Let’s get some food and then I will go with you.” Octavia nods, but as the two start to walk towards the storage area, Harper comes jogging up.

            “Hey!” She pants out as she stops in front of them. “Murphy has water.”

            “That bastard!” Octavia growls. “Where is he?”

            “I saw him near the edge of the jungle that way.” Harper points near the edge of the campsite on the other side of camp, and Octavia immediately storms away in that direction.

            “Hey! Octavia wait!” Lincoln hobbles as fast as he can after Octavia, cursing his injured leg. When he doesn’t get any closer to her, he drops his crutch and half runs several steps to catch up to her and grab her arm, ignoring the pain shooting through his leg.

            “What?” Octavia yells as she turns around angrily. When she sees that Lincoln is in pain, she grabs his arms to steady him. “Lincoln, I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

            “It’s fine.” Lincoln brushes it off, taking the opportunity to revel in her gentle touch. “If you confront him now, he’s not going to just tell you where it is. But if you wait, and follow him, a rat will always lead you to its hole.” When a sly smile slides across Octavia’s face, Lincoln squeezes her arms and lets go, hopping back to pick up his crutch. “I’ll get Lexa. Don’t lose him!”

            Octavia nods and continues on her way, this time in a more casual manner in order to not draw attention to herself. She walks over to a piece of metal and sits down on it, rolling up the bottom of her shirt to expose her stomach and pretend she’s tanning. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Murphy smoking a cigarette and watching the other survivors collecting firewood, building shelters, and sorting through the wreckage.

            After half an hour, Octavia catches movement from the corner of her eye. Murphy tosses his finished cigarette in the sand and steps on it with the heel of his shoe, tossing the empty cigarette carton behind him casually. Looking around to make sure no one is paying him any attention, he saunters into the jungle casually. Hoping that he is headed towards his stash and not to pee, Octavia follows him from some distance away, using the sounds of him pushing aside bushes and snapping twigs to stay close.

After barely more than two minutes, Octavia doesn’t hear any more sounds. As quietly as she can, she walks forward to peer carefully around a tree. From there, she watches Murphy lift up some leaves to reveal a well-hidden suitcase, which he then opens and starts rifling through. She looks around for Lexa, but doesn’t see her, and since Lincoln had told her not to lose sight of Murphy, she decides to proceed. As she steps around a tree, she accidentally steps on a twig, causing Murphy, to jump up and slide his new pack of cigarettes in his back pocket.

“Well well well, if it isn’t our very own island Kardashian. Sun too hot for you?” Murphy smirks as he tries to hide his stash behind him with his body.

“Where’s the water?” Octavia growls, stepping towards him in an aggressive manner.

“Where are your manners? That’s no way to treat someone when you’re alone in the woods.” Murphy grins maliciously and takes a step towards Octavia, who tries to hide her fear by refusing to back down. Murphy reaches out and caresses Octavia’s arm, huskily whispering, “GI Joe not able to keep up with you with his injured leg?”

“He’s not like that. He’s actually a good man, unlike you.” Octavia steps back, disgusted at his words.

Murphy follows her, still smirking. “I can assure you, I would more than satisfy you.” Octavia backs up more, until her back is against a tree. When Murphy is close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her face, she quickly pushes him away in disgust, and Murphy laughs. “Don’t be like that, I saw how quickly you moved from Atom to…”

Murphy’s words are cut off as he is slammed hard into the ground. It happened too quickly for Octavia to catch it, but somehow, Lexa is on top of him pinning him to the ground.

“Did you jump out of the _tree_?” Octavia asks in shock.

Lexa nods at Octavia before returning her focus to a now struggling Murphy. “I was just waiting for him to get close enough. Thanks for drawing him in.”

“Get off me!” Murphy wheezes, trying to get his breath back.

Lexa ignores him and pins his hands above his head while he is still gasping for air. “Octavia, go see if the water is there.” As Murphy struggles, Lexa shifts her weight to keep him pinned to the ground.

After a few moments of rustling through Murphy’s belongings, Octavia comes over to where Lexa has Murphy pinned to the ground and slaps him. “It’s not here! Where is the water?”

Murphy coughs and chuckles, adopting a smirk. “You like it rough? And a threesome? Christmas came early for me.”

Lexa’s face wrinkles in disgust as she knees Murphy in the groin before getting off of him. “This is why I don’t date men.”

            Murphy groans and grabs his crotch in pain. Octavia bends down and grabs his shirt, pulling his face forward to yell at him. “Where’s the water?”

            Murphy pushes Octavia off him and staggers to his feet. “What water? I don’t have any.”

            Lexa pulls the gun from the back of her waistband and points it at Murphy’s chest. “You had a bottle an hour ago. Now where’s the rest of it?”

            Murphy laughs in Lexa’s face. “You aren’t going to waste a bullet on me. Besides, if you shoot me, how are you going to find the water?” Lexa’s face remains impassive as she shifts her aim lower, right at Murphy’s crotch. She doesn’t say anything, simply pressing the safety, which makes an audible clicking noise as it’s switched off. Realizing that Lexa is serious, Murphy quickly raises his hands in the air. “That was my last bottle, I swear. Why are you freaking out about one bottle of water? It’s going to rain soon! Geez, is it your time of the month too?”

            Octavia growls at Murphy, but Lexa holds up one arm to prevent Octavia from attacking him and lowers the gun with the other, clicking the safety back on and putting it back in her waistband.

            With one last angry scowl at Murphy, Octavia turns away to head towards camp. However, she only takes one step before she stops, turns around and heads towards Murphy’s stash, where she grabs several boxes and stomps back towards camp. “I’m taking these tampons, you fucker.”

            Murphy is about to protest but reconsiders when Lexa scowls at him. She gives him one last hard glare to ensure he isn’t going to retaliate then turns and strides into the forest after Octavia.

* * *

          After Thelonious had rescued her, he and Clarke had moved well away from the edge of the cliff to catch their breath. Clarke had been running all day and after hearing that he didn’t have any water, she had taken to walking around the clearing tipping the moisture resting on the top of leaves into her mouth. It was hardly satisfying, but Clarke needed something after sweating in the jungle most of the day. Thelonious waits patiently in the clearing, legs crossed in front of him as he observes Clarke.

            After a few moments, Clarke catches Thelonious staring at her and decides to take a break and join him. “How is everyone? Back at the beach?”

            “Thirsty. Hungry.” Thelonious tells her simply. “Worried for you.” Clarke looks away guiltily, knowing that running off into the jungle without telling anyone was foolish. “We were all expecting to be rescued by now. People don’t know what to do, how to survive.”

            “What about Lexa? She’s the one who has been keeping us alive the past five days.”

            “Clarke.” Thelonious pleads with her, waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she does, that’s when he continues speaking. “Lexa is a military leader. She’s not used to having to explain herself or have her decisions questioned, even if they are the right ones. You’re right, she has helped to keep us alive, but you keep us together. People trust you. They treat you like a leader.”

            “I don’t know how to be the leader they need. I couldn’t… I can’t save them all…” Clarke trails off as tears threaten to spill out of her eyes.

            Thelonious reaches out to put a comforting hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “No one expects you to.” Clarke sniffles and wipes her eyes, so Thelonious changes the subject. “What are you doing out here, Clarke?”

            Clarke shakes her head and looks at Thelonious beseechingly. “I think I’m going crazy.”

            Thelonious smiles and pats her hand. “You’re not going crazy. Crazy people don’t know they’re going crazy. They think they’re sane.” Clarke laughs at his reasoning and shakes her head. “So will you come back to camp now?”

Clarke sighs and shrugs her shoulders. She is still not ready to return to camp yet; to face all the people who need her and depend on her when she feels like she can barely take care of herself and those she cares for.

In a softer tone, Thelonious continues his questioning. “Why are you really out here?”

Clarke thinks for a moment, deciding how to tell Thelonious that the only doctor on the island is most certainly going crazy and hallucinating. She decides to settle for the most vague she can be. “I’m chasing something. Someone. Multiple someones.”

“Ahh.” Thelonious murmurs and nods his head in understanding, which surprises Clarke, as her answer should not have provoked that. “The white rabbit. From _Alice in Wonderland_.”

            “Wonderland, makes sense.” When Thelonious raises an eyebrow in question, Clarke explains a little further. “Who I’m chasing… They aren’t there.”

            “But you see them?”

            “Yes. But they aren’t there…” Clarke pauses for a moment, then whispers, “They _can’t_ be there.”

            Thelonious rests his hand on his chin for a moment, thinking through Clarke’s problem. “If I came to you, and said the same thing, what would your medical explanation for it be?”

            Clarke runs her hand through her hair, pushing it off her hot and sweaty neck and forehead. “Ummm… A hallucination caused by dehydration, PTSD, lack of sleep over several days…”

            “OK. So you’re hallucinating. But what if you’re not?” Clarke is thoroughly confused, and her wrinkled brow clearly portrays this to Thelonious. “We have known each other for many years, Clarke. You know I’m not a big believer in religion, or magic, or even superstition. But this place,” Thelonious points to the ground, emphasizing his words, “is different. It’s special. The others can’t see it, because they are stuck on the beach, terrified, but here, in the jungle? You can feel it.” Thelonious spreads his arms wide, prompting Clarke’s gaze to travel around the clearing. “Is your white rabbit a hallucination? Most likely. But what if everything that happened here – the plane crashing and all of us surviving, as unlikely as those two events are – what if it all happened for a reason? There’s something special about this island. The people that you’re chasing, they could really _be_ here.”

            Clarke knows that Thelonious’ words are crazy and can’t possibly be true, but in her emotional and exhausted state, she has little power to fight his impassioned words. “That’s impossible.”

            “Nothing is impossible, Clarke. We survived a plane crash, and many say that’s impossible. The only limits you have are the ones you place on yourself. We are destined to be here. Maybe the island is trying to show you that.”

Clarke is still not buying everything Thelonious is saying, but she still considers his words, trying to find some sense in them that her rational mind can accept. Her thoughts are broken, however, when she hears Thelonious standing up and walking away. “Wait, where are you going?” Clarke quickly gets to her feet, about to follow Thelonious. “I’ll come with you.”

“No.” Thelonious says firmly, holding out his hand to stop Clarke. “I’m going to meet Wells, and we will continue to search for food and water. _You_ , you need to finish what you’ve started.”

Clarke looks at him beseechingly, still lost. “Why?”

“Because a leader can’t lead unless they know where they’re going.” Thelonious smiles at her and then disappears back into the jungle to go meet up with Wells. Thelonious can’t hear Clarke following him, so he smiles as he walks back towards the place he is supposed to be meeting his son. After walking for a few moments, he finds the bandana tied to a tree and sits down next to it, leaning against it to rest and wait for his son.

Ten minutes later, Wells appears, walking slowly down the trail towards his father with a boar slung over his shoulders.

“Did you find her?” Wells asks, picking up his pace.

Thelonious shakes his head. “I see you found a boar though. We should get that back to camp before it spoils.”

Wells is reluctant, still wanting to search for Clarke, but he knows that people are back at camp hungry and thirsty. They can’t afford to waste what food they can find. “OK. But then we go back out looking for Clarke as soon as we can.”

“Of course.” Thelonious nods as he gets to his feet and leads the way back to camp with Wells pointing out when he is heading the wrong direction. When Thelonious passes by the area he had run into Clarke, he makes sure to distract his son so that he doesn’t notice her trail.

* * *

_“Dr. Griffin, you have a call for a consult on Line 1.” The nurse tells Clarke as she breezes into the room._

_“Thank you.” Clarke smiles at the nurse before wrapping her stethoscope around her neck. “Your lungs sound much better, so after I talk to my attending, you should be able to go home today.”_

_“Thanks Dr. G.” The little boy smiles up at her. Clarke ruffles his hair and gives his mother a hug as she thanks Clarke profusely for helping her son._

_“You’re welcome little man. I don’t want to see you back here anytime soon!” She points her finger at him and pretends to be stern, then waves goodbye as she walks towards the nurses’ desk to pick up the phone._

_“Dr. Griffin speaking.” She says with a smile, still excited about discharging the boy who had been stuck in the hospital for a month after his lung transplant._

_“Clarke…”_

_Clarke freezes at hearing that familiar voice she had heard so infrequently in the past year. Her good mood instantly leaves her, and she forces a mask on her face. “I thought this was a consult? I’m working, Mom. I don’t have time to talk.”_

_“Clarke, please!” Abby begs, and the brokenness in her voice is the only reason why Clarke doesn’t hang up. “You’ve been ignoring my calls, I lied to the nurses so that I could speak with you.”_

_Clarke huffs in frustration. “I haven’t been ignoring your calls. I’ve been busy. I’m in my residency, you know how that is.”_

_“We’ve barely spoken in the past year. I miss you. I left you a few messages about it, but we’re having a memorial, and I thought you might want to come home for a few days so you could be here for it.”_

_Clarke covers her face with her hand, not wanting anyone to see her getting emotional. “No. I’m too busy.”_

_“Clarke, sweetie, please. I miss you so, so much. I’ll buy your plane ticket, talk to your boss, anything. You’re all I have left. Please come home.”_

_Clarke takes a deep breath, fighting back the tears that come whenever she thinks about what used to be her home and what used to be her family. “Mom…” At that moment, Clarke’s pager starts beeping loudly and insistently at her. “Mom, I have a page. I’ll think about it, OK?”_

_Abby sighs, but knows that’s more than she deserves. “OK. Call me later, if you have time? I love you.”_

_Clarke hesitates, knowing that while she hasn’t forgiven her mother for what happened, she still does love her. “Love you too.” She quickly hangs up and takes a moment to compose herself before heading off to the ER._

* * *

          Clarke had sat in the clearing where Thelonious had left her, thinking over the events that had led her here. Maybe it truly _was_ fate. It would certainly be easier to blame some unknown force than herself or someone she loves. For several hours, she allowed her tired body and mind to rest, reminiscing about her past memories, both good and bad.

            When darkness started to fall, Clarke moved further into the forest and farther away from the cliff, and then gathered wood to start a fire. After several attempts and some burned fingertips, she managed to get enough of a fire going for her to warm her hands by. She still hadn’t had anything to eat or drink, but she was able to ignore her body’s complaints by getting lost in the flickering flames of the fire.

            Clarke is snapped out of her haze when she hears branches break behind her. Quickly, Clarke grabs a stick out of the fire, using it as a torch to see with. She holds it up in a defensive position, expecting an animal to attack, but she sees nothing. Realizing it could be her father or Finn, she holds it up higher to see with. When she hears another twig break, she starts running through the bushes again, using the light of the moon and her makeshift torch to search desperately for any sign of her white rabbit.

            Suddenly, Clarke bursts through the bushes into a clear area leading up to a dark hole. As Clarke cautiously steps towards it, she realizes that it must be a cave. When she gets to the mouth of the cave, she pauses, listening for any signs of animals that may be dwelling inside. The only thing she hears is the sound of water dripping and what may be a stream. Hearing the running water, she realizes how thirsty she is, and she rushes towards it, dropping to her knees to quickly splash water greedily into her mouth.

Once she has satiated her thirst, she stands up to look around, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She sees several suitcases, pieces of metal, and other various wreckage within and around the cave.

            As Clarke surveys the area, she spots a familiar purple suitcase. It’s half open and clothes are spilling out of it, but most of its contents are still inside. She bends down next to it to sift through the clothes, looking for her makeup bag. She nearly cries in frustration when she can’t find it, but as she looks up, she sees it on the ground, battered but still intact.

            Clarke picks it up and hesitates for a moment, but then she unzips it. She lets mascara and lipstick fall to the ground as she pulls out a soft cloth bag. She drops her makeup bag to cradle her most prized possessions, which she hadn’t seen in almost a year. Slowly, she unties the strings and pulls out an old, beat up watch, which had belonged to her father, and a silver necklace with a deer pendant that Finn had given her on their two-year anniversary trip to the mountains.

            Clarke runs her fingers over both items before gently slipping the chain of the necklace over her head and fastening the watch on her left wrist.

* * *

           _“What do you mean there’s no room on the plane?” Clarke angrily questions the flight attendant at the check in counter._

_“I’m sorry Dr. Griffin. But due to a mechanical malfunction on a flight earlier in the day, we have had to bump several people off your flight to accommodate those passengers.”_

_“So why was I bumped off the flight? Why not the other passengers?”_

_The flight attendant smiles kindly at Clarke, trying to prevent her from yelling some more. “We based it on booking date. As you only booked your flight several hours ago, there was nothing we could do.”_

_“Well is there another flight you can put me on? First class, business class, coach, anything? Or on another airline?”_

_The flight attendant nods and starts typing on her computer, searching for an opening. After a few moments, her face remains grim and she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Dr. Griffin, but the earliest I can get you out is the red eye tomorrow evening. You are more than welcome to wait in the terminal on standby, but for now that’s all you can do.”_

_Clarke is starting to get desperate now. She could always try the ‘I’m a doctor going to see a patient’ card, but she doesn’t want to lie about something like that. Neither does she want to tell the flight attendant her sordid past, but she realizes it may be her only chance of making it home in time for the memorial service. “Please, I need to be on this flight.” Clarke glances at the flight attendant’s nametag, then continues. “Annie, I’m standing in front of you in the dress,” Clarke gestures to the black dress she is wearing, “that I’m going to wear to the memorial service honoring the year that has gone by since my father and boyfriend died in a car crash. So I’m asking you, please get me on that flight.” Clarke quickly glances at her watch, and then reestablishes eye contact with the flight attendant. “In 18 hours and 12 minutes, I will hopefully be standing at the gravesite of the two men that I love most in this world, and the only way I can do that, is if you get me on the 16 hour flight that’s leaving in an hour.” A tear slips out from Clarke’s eyes, and she wishes that she was acting and not about to break down in the middle of the airport, but she isn’t. “And why did I not book my flight earlier, you ask? Because I still can’t accept that I’m never going to come home after a hard day at work and have my boyfriend wrap me in a hug. And if I do manage to move past his death, I’m not going to have my father walk me down the aisle. And until a few hours ago, I still wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to muster up the strength to face my mother and friends who I haven’t seen in a year after I ran away from them. So please, I need to be on that flight.”_

_The flight attendant has an anguished look on her face, and she can’t help but be moved by the young, broken woman’s tears. “Alright. You’ll be on the flight.”_

* * *

          Maya had spent most of the day resting, and despite the cooler temperature that had come with the darkness, she was still unable to sleep. Jasper was sleeping nearby, and she tried to match her breaths with him in an effort to fall sleep, but it was futile. All she could do was lay with her eyes close and rest, finding comfort in the sounds of the waves and Jasper’s light snoring.

When Maya feels something brush against her lips, she jolts backwards, but then when she feels the cool liquid over her dry lips, she quickly leans forward and greedily drinks from the water bottle. She coughs as some water goes down her trachea in her haste, and she feels the glorious water being taken away.

            “Easy. I know you’re thirsty, but you need to take it slow.”

            Maya finally looks up, forgetting the fact that she had just drunk whatever a stranger had given her without even knowing who it was. In the flickering firelight, she is unable to make out who the figure is, just that it’s a man. “Where did you get this?”

            “Shhhh. It doesn’t matter.”

            Finally, Maya recognizes the voice. “Bellamy?”

            In her shock, Maya must have spoken louder than she intended to, and Jasper sits up. When he sees someone leaning over Maya, he immediately jumps up and grabs him. “Hey! What are you doing here?” He yells, and when he finds the missing water bottles at his feet, he glares at Bellamy as he angrily yells for Lincoln and Lexa.

            Lincoln had been hanging out with Octavia and Raven in the tent next door, so he bursts from it quickly, immediately worrying for Maya’s health. Octavia follows close on his heels, also concerned.

            “What’s going on? Is she OK?” Lincoln asks, watching as Jasper drags Bellamy to the middle of camp and shoves him into the sand.

            “Maya’s fine. But I found the thief!” Jasper growls, shooting another glare at the man prone on the sand.

           “Bellamy?” Octavia whispers, still in shock at her brother’s betrayal.

            “Where was he hiding it?” Harper asks as she comes up.

            “I don’t know. But I found him with the last bottles in the tent with Maya.” Jasper tells the group.

            Upon hearing the commotion, Raven and Monty stumble from their tent, blinking tired eyes after an entire day spent looking at wires and circuits.

            “What the hell? Why would you keep water from a pregnant girl?” Raven questions him angrily.

            Bellamy staggers to his feet, holding up his hands in defense as more people crowd around the commotion. “It was just sitting in the tent! It was all we had left!”

            “So you took it for yourself?” Octavia asks, heartbroken by her brother’s actions.

            “No! I swear, I just took it to keep it safe. It was the last of our water!” Bellamy pleads with Octavia, begging her to listen to him.

            Jasper walks up and shoves Bellamy angrily. “Maya could have died!”

            “Hey, hey. Take it easy now.” Lincoln tells them as he tries to calm the angry men, stepping in between them.

            Bellamy leans around Lincoln to angrily yell at Jasper in retaliation for the hit. “I would have given her some sooner, but everything got out of hand! I’m in charge of rationing the water anyways.”

            “Wait, Bellamy had the water the whole time? And didn’t give any to Maya?” Wells had caught the last few sentences when he walked up, and he hadn’t been expecting to find himself surrounded by an angry mob instead of people joyful that he had brought them food to eat.

            “I tried to give it to her!” Bellamy yells at Wells.

            “Shut up! No you didn’t!” Jasper screams as he makes a move towards Bellamy, but Lexa grabs him from behind and holds him back.

            Lexa shoves Jasper behind her and stands in front of Bellamy protectively to address the crowd. “Everyone needs to calm down. Bellamy made a mistake, but he wasn’t intentionally trying to harm anyone. We’re going to figure everything out, but we aren’t going to accomplish anything by fighting amongst ourselves. Please just try to get some rest tonight so we have the energy to survive tomorrow.”

            Someone from the crowd calls out, no longer afraid of the two intimidating soldiers now that he’s hidden amongst the crowds and won’t have to directly face them. “Who made you the boss? We’re out of water, our only doctor is missing… Who are you to tell us what to do? He deserves to pay for what he did!”

            Other survivors start yelling at Bellamy and arguing amongst themselves about whether he had done the right thing, while Lexa and Lincoln try to calm everyone down and protect Bellamy from attack. Even though he had done the wrong thing, they couldn’t let people just attack him. After a few minutes, the crowd has gotten more aggressive and Lexa is about to start throwing punches, when a voice yells out.

            “Hey! Leave him alone!” Everyone stops their fighting and turns to look at Clarke, who is standing atop a wing panting. “It’s been five days since we crashed, and we’re all still waiting… Waiting for rescue.” Clarke looks around, making sure that everyone is focused on her before stepping off the metal wing to walk towards the middle of the crowd. “We have to stop waiting. We need to start figuring things out. A girl…” Clarke swallows hard, forcing herself to remain unemotional. “A girl died this morning just going for a swim. And Bellamy saved my life only 12 hours ago, and now you want to what, punish him for a mistake? Are you going to hang him?” At Clarke’s words, several people look away in shame, knowing that she’s right. “Lexa and Lincoln are the only ones who have actual experience and training in surviving these conditions, and you don’t want to listen to them when things get hard?” Clarke quickly glances at Lexa, face impassive as ever, but when she catches her nod of support, so imperceptible that Clarke thinks she’s imagined it, she continues with her speech. “We can’t _do_ this. Every man for himself is not going to work! And we can’t rely on Lexa, Lincoln, and Wells to keep us alive. It’s time to start organizing. Everyone needs to help this time, not just those who are bored or who feel like it. I don’t know how long we’re going to have to survive here, but I know that the only way we are going to is if we all work together.” Clarke hears some mumbling through the crowd, some good and some bad, which prompts her to tell them all the good news. “I found water. Fresh water that we can drink, not too far from here, just up in the valley.”

            Everyone starts chattering in excitement and relief, and Lexa steps up to stand next to Clarke. Clarke had brought everyone together, but now it’s her job to direct them. “A group of us will go at dawn. We’ll bring all the bottles. Not everyone has to go, but if you don’t, then you need to find other ways you can contribute!” Lexa surveys the expressions of her fellow survivors and knows that if she wants them to listen to her, she needs to be more than just someone barking orders. She doesn’t know what will inspire these people to follow her, and although she has given a few motivational speeches to her unit before, a rousing speech followed by a war cry and a charge into battle will not necessarily work here. So she decides to build on what Clarke has said. “A week ago, none of us had ever met. But we’re all here now. And if we can’t live together, then we’re going to die alone.”

Clarke nearly shakes her head in exasperation at what she now labels as a ‘typical Lexa’ phrase. Guess it’s up to her to be the good cop. “I want to get off this island as much as you do, and when I finally get rescued, I want all of you to be there with me so we can sue the fuck out of the airline.” Everyone laughs at Clarke’s joke, so Clarke waits for the noise to die down. “Now, I’m not sure you’re all aware, but Lexa and Lincoln have been keeping watch over us each night in shifts, which means they haven’t had a full night’s sleep in almost a week.” Everyone looks at them in surprise, while the two soldiers remain standing with perfect posture and impassive faces under their scrutiny. “We can work out a schedule tomorrow, but can we have 3 volunteers to take turns tonight?” Barely three seconds have gone by before three hands shoot into the air. Lexa looks like she wants to protest, but finally lets herself feel her exhaustion from the past week and smiles her acceptance at Clarke. “Good. Now I’m going to check on Maya, then get some rest.”

* * *

After checking on Maya and leaving her in Jasper’s care with orders to drink an entire bottle of water, Clarke leaves the medical tent to head towards her own tent. When she gets there, however, she finds Lexa waiting outside of it, exhaustion written in every line of her body. “Hey, are you OK?”

Lexa jumps; startled from Clarke’s approach. As alert as she normally is, she must be nearly asleep on her feet to have not heard Clarke’s approach. “I should be asking you that.” Lexa looks a little bashful as she asks the blonde, “I was worried about you. Where did you go today, _Klark_?”

Clarke smiles and sags gently against the side of her tent, careful not to put too much weight on the flimsy structure. “I’m fine. Just had some things to take care of.” Lexa’s lips twitch into a smile and she rolls her eyes, which coming from her is practically rolling on the floor laughing. Clarke smiles and slides down to sit in the sand, gesturing for Lexa to join her. She turns her gaze towards the stars, searching for the constellations her dad had taught her, when she feels the heat of Lexa sitting down next to her.

            “I’m sorry about this morning. I should have tried…”

            “No.” Clarke cuts her off, shifting her gaze to the green eyes which are now hidden in the darkness and moving her hand to Lexa’s knee, which is just barely grazing her own. “There was nothing you could do, and I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration about it on you. This time of year is just…” Clarke pauses, wanting to tell Lexa but still struggling to say the words. When Lexa’s hand slides under Clarke’s to lace their fingers together and give a comforting squeeze, Clarke finds the courage, fixing her gaze on their interlocked fingers. “A year and three days ago, my father and my long-term boyfriend died.” Lexa stiffens, but Clarke is too caught up in trying to get the words out to notice. “A few months after their funeral, I ran away to Australia, and I haven’t been back since.”

            “I’m sorry.” Lexa mumbles, all too familiar with Clarke’s loss and knowing that no words can help relieve the pain.

            “Me too.” Clarke sighs as she tightens her grip on Lexa’s hand. “I just wanted you to know that it’s not anything you did. Just with the stress around this time of year and everything that’s happened…”

            “It’s alright, _Klark_. I’m just glad you are safe.” Lexa gets to her feet, using their entwined hands to pull Clarke to her feet as well. “You should get some rest.”

            Clarke smiles and releases Lexa’s hand to tuck a wild strand of hair behind one of her ears. “You’re one to talk. I bet you’re just as tired as I am.”

            Lexa steps back out of Clarke’s touch and nods her head in agreement, face nearly emotionless again. “You are right. Sleep well, Clarke.”

            Clarke’s brow furrows as she watches Lexa walk away, confused at her sudden change in behavior. Maybe she’s really tired? Clarke, however, is too tired to ponder it further, and simply crawls into her tent and collapses on her makeshift bed, falling asleep within seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't proofread like I probably should have, so let me know if you see something bad! Also, questions, comments, concerns, thoughts? Love them all!
> 
> I always thought it was unrealistic in the show for Boone to be drowning and Jack has to save him when Boone is the lifeguard... Like he's trained in that stuff and he's drowning? I guess that's why I'm rewriting, eh? Anyways, I'm on tumblr under the same name, feel free to come say hi! I'm new so don't expect much, but if you bother me I will post previews ;) ALSO, shameless plug for my other story, Mrs. and Mrs. Woods, I will be focusing on that so that I can finish it because it's almost done and I don't want to be writing two stories at the same time! So that means this might not update for a bit but rest assured I am not giving up on it!


	6. House of the Rising Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The House of the Rising Sun” is a traditional folk song, sometimes called “Rising Sun Blues”. It tells of a life gone wrong in New Orleans, referring to either a brothel or a prison that the singer is tied to and cannot escape from. The most successful commercial version was recorded in 1964 by the Animals.  
> https://youtu.be/hRXb7K7k7bQ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crawls under from under, rock leaves chapter here without editing, quickly scurries back.

**Day 6**

            Clarke had slept soundly last night for the first time in an entire week. Normally, she would wake up not long after the sun had risen, but today the sun is well into the sky. As she stretches out her muscles, the tarp that is the “door” to her tent is gently pushed aside and Wells sticks his head in.

            “Good morning, sleepy head.”

            Clarke yawns and then smiles at her childhood friend as she slowly gets to her feet. “Morning Wells. What’s up?”

            “You’re the only one who knows where the freshwater is, and the sun has been up for a while, so I came to wake you up.”

            “Right. Let me just get changed, and I will be right out.” Wells nods his head in confirmation and leaves as Clarke strips off her oversize shirt and baggy shorts and starts rifling through the clothes she had grabbed from the wreckage for herself. At first, she had balked at wearing someone else’s underwear even though it was clean, but after two days in her own pair she had accepted her fate. Although, her suitcase is up in the caves so hopefully she can get back to wearing her own clothes. Clarke winces as she catches a whiff of her armpits and quickly reaches for the deodorant; she desperately wants to take a cold shower, and not just rinse off in the warm saltwater when she has time. As she pulls on a T-shirt, she winces as the stitches pull in her side and checks them with her fingers, but it seems as if Lexa did a good job on them that first day as they are still holding well. She quickly throws on her jeans and boots, fantasizing about how she could maybe take a shower with the freshwater that she found.

            After taking two strands of hair and tying them in a knot at the back of her head to keep her hair out of her face, Clarke steps out into the morning sun and looks around. She finds a bottle of water with a few sips left in it and a mango, which Wells must have left her for breakfast. Knowing that it will make no difference on her body if she drinks the water all at one time instead of spacing it out, Clarke drinks what’s left in one go and looks around for Wells. Instead, Clarke sees Lexa further down the beach loading water bottles into several backpacks and decides to head over to her. On the way, she starts eating her mango, just taking big bites out of it and not bothering to peel it.

            “Morning!” Clarke cheerily greets Lexa, still happily chewing on her mango as juices cover her mouth.

Lexa only raises her eyebrow at Clarke’s voracious eating and returns the greeting, although not with the enthusiasm that Clarke has.

Clarke rolls her eyes at the brunette. “Shut up, I didn’t eat at all yesterday; I’m hungry. But I slept for like 10 hours last night for the first time since probably before I started medical school so I’m feeling great!”

            Lexa can’t hold in the small smile that forms on her lips at Clarke’s energy, so she turns her head back to her task.

            Clarke doesn’t miss Lexa’s smile and grins happily as she takes a seat on the piece of metal next to all the empty water bottles that Lexa has lined up and continues to happily munch on her mango. Lexa works in the comfortable silence, and Clarke just observes the stoic brunette, watching Lexa work until she catches a flash of black on the back of Lexa’s neck when her ponytail swings.

            “How many tattoos do you have?” Clarke asks, genuinely curious.

            “What?” Lexa asks the blonde, confused as to what prompted Clarke to ask her that.

            “Well I saw the one on your back the other day when you _stripped_ in front of me,” Clarke teases, “and obviously that one,” Clarke gestures to the tribal tattoo on Lexa’s bicep which is revealed by her tank top, “and I just noticed the one on the back of your neck.”

            Lexa reaches up to the back of her neck and runs her fingers over the broken infinity sign, not needing to see it to follow its shape perfectly. With Clarke still staring at her expectantly, Lexa realizes that she had been asked a question. “Uh… It’s just these three.”

            “That’s cool. I always wanted one, but I could never decide what to get. What do they mean?”

            Lexa hesitates for a second and averts her eyes from Clarke’s piercing blue in order to focus on zipping up one of the backpacks. “The one on my bicep I got with my unit. We each got different ones, but we all got them at the same time.”

            When Lexa doesn’t elaborate, Clarke decides to back off. After all, they have barely known each other a week. “Sorry, if they’re personal. I didn’t mean to pry.”

            “It’s fine. I mean, they are personal…” Lexa trails off, lost in her own thoughts, but quickly brings her mind back to the present to hold out the full backpack for Clarke. “I don’t blame you for being curious. A lot of people ask about them.”

            Clarke wipes her sticky fingers on her jeans and turns around and holds out her arms so Lexa can help her slip the backpack straps over her shoulders.  “So does that mean if I keep asking about them I’ll eventually get an answer?” When she doesn’t get a reply, she huffs in mock annoyance and grabs the small duffel bag with only one strap and holds it out to Lexa. “Fine, be mysterious and broody all you want. You still should be taking it easy on your shoulder.” When Lexa looks like she wants to protest, Clarke sternly tells her, “Doctor’s orders.” When Lexa sighs and accepts the bag, swinging it over her good shoulder, Clarke smiles triumphantly. “Who else is coming with us?”

            “Thelonious and Jasper.”

            “Not Wells?”

            Lexa stiffens almost imperceptibly, but enough for Clarke to pick up on. “He decided to stay and help with the fishing.”

            “Oh, that makes sense. We used to fish in the creek behind his house back when we were kids. I just thought since he woke me up this morning that he was coming…” Clarke trails off as she watches the stoic woman become even more stoic, which confuses Clarke, as Wells is normally well liked by everyone.

            Lexa looks down at her feet and shifts the duffel bag around on her shoulder as she mumbles, “I asked him to. I thought you would be more comfortable, because you have known each other for so long…”

            Clarke can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. She gently runs her fingers along Lexa’s forearm to get those green eyes to focus back on her. “Thank you, but next time, don’t worry about it. It’s not like I sleep naked,” Clarke laughs as Lexa blushes. “Plus, we’re friends, right?”

             “Yeah, of course we are. Friends.” Lexa manages a half-hearted smile, but Clarke doesn’t notice this time, just beams back at her.

            With how easily she can make Lexa blush, Clarke can’t resist teasing her a little more. “I’m glad. I don’t let just anyone get me out of my bra the first day we meet.”

            Lexa’s eyes widen in surprise, but before she can even attempt to come up with a flustered response, Jasper walks up to them. “Wow, looks like I picked the right time to jump into a conversation. Who’s getting to second base, and how do I get in on that?”

            Clarke and Lexa both glare at Jasper, and Clarke even goes so far as to punch him in the shoulder, hard enough for the skinny man to take a step back. “Hey, what happened to do no harm?”

            “Doesn’t apply when you make comments like that.”

            Jasper pretends to pout and Lexa takes the moment to replace her emotionless mask and hands one of the remaining backpacks for Jasper. “Have you seen Thelonious?” When Jasper shakes his head, Lexa grabs the last pack and gestures for the two to follow her as she walks down the beach looking for him. Clarke resists the urge to pout as all her hard work of coaxing Lexa out of her shell are gone, as the brunette is all business once again. Once they find Thelonious talking to Wells, the groups heads off into the jungle while Wells heads back down the beach to talk to Monty.  

* * *

          Monty is still making the last few adjustments to his net when Wells and Harper walk up to him.

            “So we’re using a nets?” Wells asks as he bends down to examine Monty’s work. The young man had managed to weave together a mass of seat belts and mesh from the storage compartments on the seat backs to create a makeshift circular net about 10 feet in diameter with a long rope off the center. Some of the mesh is overlapping and all of the seat belt buckles hang off on the outside of the net.

            “Well just one for now, until I can make more. Octavia and Lincoln disappeared down the beach a while ago with her spear, but this should be easier and yield more.” Monty tells them as he makes a few last tugs on the net, testing its durability and hoping it will hold.

            “You have that little faith in us?” Harper pretends to be insulted, but with Monty focused on his work he doesn’t see her smiling.

            Monty looks up in alarm. “No, it’s not that…” When he sees Harper and Wells grinning, he fights to hide his blushing cheeks behind his actions to pick up the net.

            Harper gently touches Monty’s arm as she grabs the other end of the net. “I’m just teasing, Monty. Thank you for doing this; you’re trying to fix communications with Raven _and_ you’re teaching us how to fish.”

            When Wells catches the way Monty and Harper smile at each other, he fights to hide his grin at the obvious crushes the two have on each other. He gives them a few seconds before interrupting, not wanting the sexual tension to escalate further. “Soooo… How does this work?”

            Monty tears his gaze away from Harper to look at Wells. “It’s best if I show you.” When Wells nods his acquiescence, Monty lifts the net up so it doesn’t drag on the ground and carries it towards the water.

            “The net is a large circle, and the seat belt buckles act as weights on the ends. If you throw the net correctly, the net will fan out and the edges will sink quickly, trapping the fish inside. Then you just pull the net back to shore and pull out the fish. Make sense?” When Harper and Wells nod, Monty continues with his demonstration. “So we’re looking for groups of fish near the shore in 5 feet of water or less. Try looking for flashes of silver or movement. First, we wrap the end of the rope around your dominant hand and the end of the net in the other and shake out the net so there’s no tangles. Grab halfway down the net with your dominant hand and then use your other hand to grab half of the bottom material of the net and put that in your dominant hand as well.” Monty pauses his actions to look up and make sure that both of his pupils understand before continuing. “With your non-dominant hand, grab the other half of the material, and then swing back and twist around to throw the net with your dominant hand, swinging your other hand down and in the opposite direction. And make sure that when you release the net that the rope in the middle is still attached.” Monty demonstrates and the net flies out over the water, landing spread out and quickly sinking. He pulls it back in and holds it out for Wells to try. Monty corrects him on his technique and once he has done a few tosses, he helps Harper.

            After Harper has had a few successful throws, she hesitantly asks, “So, once we catch the fish, what do we…” Monty looks around and picks up a large rock and hands it to her. Harper looks at it in puzzlement, but when she realizes what they have to do with it, she quickly tosses it to Wells. “I’ll let you do that part.”

            Wells chuckles and starts teasing her for not wanting to kill the fish, but Monty is too lost in his own memories. 

* * *

            _“You’re leaving again? But you just got back…” Monty struggles to keep his tears from overflowing and stares determinedly at the red and white bobber floating in the middle of the pond._

_“I know sweetie, but they need me over there.” Hannah puts her hand on her son’s shoulder, but he shrugs it off._

_Monty turns to face his mom with anger in his eyes. “But I need you here. You’re always leaving. Where are they even sending you this time?”_

_“You know I’m not allowed to tell you that. I’m sorry.” When Monty doesn’t respond, Hannah wraps her arm around his shoulders and pulls him in to snuggle against her side. She holds back a sigh, knowing that when she comes back her little 10-year-old boy may be too big to hold like this. “I promise I’ll, write, and call, and Skype whenever I can.” Monty starts to cry and Hannah squeezes tighter, trying to comfort him. Some time later, he finally calms down enough to wipe the tears and snot off his face on his mom’s shirt. “Hey!” She yells, playfully pushing him away._

_Monty gives her a small smile, leans his head back on her shoulder, and returns his gaze to his fishing line. “I love you.” He whispers as he closes his eyes._

_“I love you too.” She whispers back. After a few moments, she jerks forward, dropping her own fishing pole. “Hey, you’ve got a bite!”_

_Monty’s eyes flash open and he jumps to his feet and starts frantically reeling in his line._

_“Not too fast! We don’t want it to get off. And keep your rod tip up.” Hannah coaches as Monty slowly reels the fish in. When it gets to the shore, Hannah grabs the line with her hands and lifts the fish onto the shore. “Great catch Monty! We can have it for dinner tonight.”_

_The young boy beams proudly at his mom’s praises and dutifully holds the fish up for a photo. As Hannah grabs her own pole and reels her line in, sensitive, sweet Monty starts to worry about his fish. “Mom, why is it still moving?”_

_“It’s OK, it will stop soon.” Hannah offhandedly says as she packs up her tackle box and the two fishing poles._

_“Is it suffering? Like what happens when people try to breathe underwater?”_

_“Kind of, but it’s different for fish. It doesn’t hurt as much.” Monty still looks sad, so Hannah takes the fish from him. “We have to eat other animals to survive; it’s just the way the world works. Fish eat plants, and we eat the fish, and when we die we help grow the plants. Every death has a purpose in furthering life. But you’re right, we don’t have to let the animals we eat suffer.” Hannah picks up a rock and bashes the fish over the head with it and the fish immediately stops moving. She hands the fish back to Monty and he tentatively takes it in his hands, looking slightly less distressed. “Now c’mon, you’re old enough to learn how to clean your own fish.” Hannah tells her son, laughing when makes a face of disgust at having to touch all the fish guts._

* * *

           Clarke had followed behind Lexa as they walked into the jungle, waiting for the brunette to realize that she had no idea where they were going. After a few minutes, Clarke is almost bursting with laughter, and once Lexa stops and turns to face her with the smallest hint of a pout on her face, Clarke can’t contain it anymore.

            “Now would be a good time to tell me where we are going, Clarke.”

            “You just took off into the jungle, all Commander mode, and you don’t even know where we are going!” Clarke giggles which only makes Lexa’s pout even more.

            “Does that make you the guy in relationships? Because you don’t want to stop and ask for directions?”

            Both Clarke and Lexa turn to glare at Jasper, who immediately shrinks away under their fierce gazes. Once she feels that Jasper has been thoroughly chastised, Clarke takes the lead, with Lexa close behind and Thelonious and Jasper at the rear.

            The group only walks for about 30 minutes until Clarke starts to recognize the clearing. She leads the group up a rise and down the side, picking her way through the narrow trees and boulders.

            “Are you sure this is the right way?” Lexa asks as she glances around the dense woods. Clarke only hums her assent as she ducks behind some bushes and leads the group into a large cave.

            “Wow! How did you find this place?” Jasper shouts as he spins around in the large cavern.

            Clarke shrugs, ignoring the odd, knowing look that Thelonious is sending her way. “Luck, I guess.”

            Too busy looking around the large cave, Jasper stumbles on a piece of wreckage and almost falls. “Hey, look at this stuff! We should go through it.”

            Lexa glances at the wreckage and nods at him. “Good idea. Clarke and I will fill up the bottles while you and Thelonious go through the wreckage for anything useful.”

            Jasper is shocked. “Good idea? You think something I said is a good idea?”

Lexa ignores him and heads toward the water, dropping her bag to the ground so she can examine the stream. Clarke just laughs at Jasper and gives him a playful nudge. “Keep an eye out for any medical supplies for me, yeah? Drugs in particular.”

“Oh…” Jasper mumbles. “Right, of course. Drugs.”

The only person who notices Jasper’s strange behavior is Thelonious, as Clarke has joined Lexa, who is crouched above the stream. The water is clear, and appears to come out from between two rocks before flowing through the cave and out through a small exit. “It looks safe, but we should boil it just to be sure.”

            Clarke ignores Lexa’s words and scoops up a handful and takes a big slurp. “No need. I drank some last night. If there was something wrong with it, I would be sick by now.”

            “You know that’s necessarily true. It could be a parasite or…”

            Lexa trails off as Clarke shushes her by flicking water at her face. “I’m the doctor, remember? Now drink before you pass out from dehydration.”

            Lexa mock glares at Clarke before turning to scoop some water into her hand to drink. Clarke smiles at her victory and starts to fill up water bottles. Once Lexa has sated her thirst, she starts to fill water bottles too, and the two work in companionable silence for a few minutes until Lexa suddenly stiffens.

            “What’s wrong?” Clarke asks, alarmed at Lexa’s behavior.

            “Where are Thelonious and Jasper?” Lexa stands up as Clarke looks around the cave, but their other companions are nowhere in sight.

            “I don’t know, maybe they went…”

            Lexa shushes Clarke, cutting her off. “Shhh. Did you hear that?”

            Clarke looks at Lexa in confusion. “Hear what?”

            Lexa pulls the gun out from the holster on her thigh and strides quickly towards the entrance of the cave.

            Clarke quickly jumps up and follows Lexa, and as she approaches the cave entrance, she can hear the voices of Thelonious and Jasper coming from outside.

            “Don’t move!”

            “I just had to take a leak…”

            “Do. Not. Move!”

            Lexa takes a left out of the cave and comes around a tree to find a nervous looking Jasper standing with his arms out for balance and Thelonious speaking to him in a firm but soothing tone.

            “What’s wrong?” Lexa asks as she comes up behind Thelonious.

            “Jasper’s standing on a beehive.” Thelonious points to the sandy spot of ground where several bees are swarming around Jasper’s feet angrily.

            “There are beehives in the ground?” Clarke questions as she comes to stand next to Lexa and Thelonious.

            “Yes, and he needs to stay very still because the beehive is fragile and if he moves he could split the hive, which would make the bees very angry.”

“I have an irrational fear of bees…What if I’m allergic?” Jasper cries in a panic as bees start landing on his face and flying around his arms.

“Jasper, just be quiet. Lexa and Clarke are going to find something to cover the hive, and then we’re going to get you away from the bees.” Thelonious continues to soothe Jasper as the two women take off running towards the cave.

* * *

Back at the beach, Monty is helping Raven fix the old antenna and make some additional antennas when Lincoln and Octavia walk into the tent.

“Hey Monty, Raven, what’s up?” Octavia cheerily asks as she bounces into the tent with her spear in hand.

“Nothing much, just trying to fix the damage from Commander Clumsy.” Raven grumbles as she struggles to tighten a bolt. When she catches Lincoln’s frown, she mumbles a “sorry” to the big man who is holding several fish strung together on a vine.

When Monty sees all the fish that Lincoln is holding, he gently puts down the wires he is fiddling with and stands up to take the fish. “Oh good, you’ve got some fish. I’ll show you how to clean a couple and then let you do the rest.”

Lincoln nods and follows Monty out of the tent, but Octavia stays behind to talk to Raven. When Monty gives Lincoln a questioning look, the fierce man’s face forms a soft smile. “She told me that since she was doing all the work in catching the fish that I had to do the cooking.”

Monty chuckles as he takes the fish from Lincoln and heads towards some nearby rocks that look relatively flat. He carefully pulls one of the fish off the vine and sets it down belly up as he pulls out one of the knives that Lincoln had given him a couple days ago.

“So first you make a cut right below the gills.” Monty instructs as he saws halfway through the fish’s body.  “Make sure not to cut all the way through at this point.” When Lincoln nods his understanding, Monty then turns the fish on its side and runs his knife along the fish’s belly, splitting it open. When he gets to the end of the fish’s belly where it starts to taper into the tail, he stops. “We want to cut the belly open, and then once we get back to this last fin, we can cut the rest of the head off. If you just cut the spine, then we can easily pull out the intestines.” Monty flips the fish on its stomach and cuts the spine near the head right above his previous cut, then pulls the fish head towards the tail and all the intestines come right out. Monty flips the fash back onto its stomach and pulls apart the sides to reveal the inside of the fish. “If there’s any veins or pieces of intestines or eggs still left, just pull or cut them out.” Laying the fish flat on its side again, Monty begins to rub the knife along the skin in the opposite direction of the scales. “Now just get all the scales off, and once that’s done, cut off the tail, and it’s all ready to go.”

Lincoln gently pats Monty on the shoulder and pulls out his own knife as he grabs the next fish. “Thanks for the refresher, Monty. I haven’t had to clean a fish in a few years, not since before I joined the army.”

“No problem. I’ll watch you do the next one and then leave you to it.” Monty replies, watching as Lincoln quickly and easily cleans the next couple fish. Lincoln looks confident and seems to be doing well, so Monty heads towards the ocean to wash the fish guts, blood, and smell off his hands and knife. As the blood washes free from his hands and dissipates into the water, he thinks back to one of the last times that he had cleaned a fish.

* * *

_A 14-year-old Monty stands in his family’s barn, cleaning fish and tossing the entrails to the eagerly awaiting cats. When he hears footsteps walk up behind him, he ignores them and continues cleaning the fish he had caught this morning. When he finishes the last one, he looks up at his mother who is standing at his side with a proud smile on her face._

_“Couldn’t have done it better myself.” Hannah smiles at her son and goes to wrap him in a hug, which he reluctantly allows. “You’ve grown so much baby.”_

_“That’s what happens when you’re gone for two years, only come back for 6 months, and then leave for two more years.” Monty growls as he pushes himself out of his mother’s arms._

_Hannah doesn’t want to let her son go, but allows him to push her away. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I’m back for good now. I promise I’m never going to leave you again.”_

_“You’re only back because Dad is dead!” Monty yells, trying to hold back his tears._

_Hannah steps forward once more and pulls Monty in for an even tighter hug. “Shhhh it’s OK. I miss him too. But I promise to be here for you. I love you so much, and I came back for_ you _. Everything’s going to be OK.” Hannah continues to whisper comforts into Monty’s ear as she strokes his hair, which only makes the young boy cry harder._

 

* * *

            Clarke and Lexa had quickly run back to the cave and grabbed the first suitcase they could find. Lexa unzipped it and spilled everything onto the ground and then took off for the hive with Clarke close on her heels. When she got halfway there, she slowed to a walk and focused on calming her breathing and heart rate.

            Clarke almost runs into Lexa’s back when the brunette suddenly slows down. “What are you doing?” She angrily pants.

            “Trying to calm my heart rate and breathing. Bees can sense distress, and Jasper needs us to appear as calm as possible.”

            “Oh, right.” Clarke nods, although Lexa doesn’t see it as she is approaching Thelonious and Jasper.

            Quietly and slowly, Lexa walks around Thelonious and towards Jasper, who is becoming increasingly more nervous. “I’m just going to gently lay this over the hive. Just keep still Jasper.”

            Jasper looks down and intently eyes Lexa and the approaching suitcase. “This is never going to work! There has to be a different way!”

            Lexa stops and looks up at Jasper, meeting his wild eyes with her calm ones. “Jasper, we’re doing our best. Let me worry about the hive, all you have to do is stay still. Pull it together, you can do this!”

            “It wouldn’t be an irrational fear of bees if I could just pull myself together!” Jasper bites back at Lexa.

            “Hey Jasper, look at me!” Clarke calls to the anxious man. When his gaze meets Clarke’s soft blue eyes, she sends him a smile. “It’s going to be OK. I know you’re scared, but just focus on your feet on the ground.” Thelonious motions to Lexa to start moving again, so she slowly creeps forward as Clarke tries to distract Jasper. “Close your eyes, and just focus on your weight over your feet and standing perfectly upright.” Jasper nods and closes his eyes and doesn’t move, despite the bees that are now crawling on his face. He lets out a whimper and Lexa centers the suitcase on the hive, but before she can lay it down, Jasper jumps as a bee crawls up his nose.

            Unfortunately, Jasper doesn’t land on the ground, he lands smack on top of the bee hive, irritating the swarm of bees and destroying the hive. Lexa quickly drops the suitcase over what bees she can and takes off running, grabbing Clarke’s hand as she flies past her and swatting away bees with the other. Jasper starts smacking bees that land on his body and blindly runs the other direction. Thelonious takes off after a now shouting Jasper, not wanting to leave the poor man alone. Thelonious starts smashing bees off Jasper’s back and urges him to run faster when the bees swarm him too. Both men rub the bees off their arms and out of their hair as much as they can while still running through the dense jungle foliage.

            Lexa pulls Clarke along until there are too many bees around and she must let go of her hand to start swatting them away from her. She can hear Clarke’s grunts of pain behind her, and can’t help letting out a few pained hisses as she gets stung several times under her clothing. Once she reaches the cave, she yanks her shirt off and starts swatting the swarms with it. Clarke is close behind the brunette and rips off her shirt full of bees as well, but she drops it on the cave floor and races over to the stream, where she starts splashing water on the bees still following her and the angry red stings that cover her arms.

            As the hum of the bees disappears, Lexa stops swinging her shirt wildly and walks over to collapse next to a heavily panting Clarke, who is leaning forward over the stream with her arms completely submerged and her head face down on top of them. “You alright?” Lexa asks as she scans Clarke for any injuries besides the angry red spots spattering her back.

            Clarke gives Lexa an exasperated look. “As well as can be expected for the amount of times I’ve been stung.” She tries and fails not to notice Lexa’s abs once again, although now they are spotted with angry red welts. Grinning mischievously, she lifts her arms out of the water and flicks it all over the brunette, giggling when Lexa sends her an affronted look. “It’s good for the swelling.”

            Lexa rolls her eyes and tries and fails to tear away her gaze from a wet, giggling, only bra-clad Clarke. Fortunately, before Clarke can catch her staring, Thelonious calls out to them.

            “Hello? Clarke and Lexa, are you two alright?”

            “Yeah, we’re both OK.” Lexa stands up and slowly puts on her shirt, still favoring her hurt shoulder. Clarke is once again given a view of Lexa’s back tattoo, and she tries to decipher what the strange shapes could possibly mean.

            “Well I’m glad I provided a good distraction, because I was stung _several hundred times_ …” Jasper angrily points at all the wells adorning his face and arms.

            “Maybe you should be more careful about where you _step_ next time.” Clarke teases back as she gets to her feet.

            “I don’t know, it actually turned out pretty well for me. I’m enjoying the view right now.” Jasper sends Clarke a wink as he tosses her the shirt she had dropped.

            Lexa steps in front of Clarke as the blonde blushes and quickly slides her shirt back on. “It was full of bees.” She says bashfully, keeping her eyes pointedly away from Thelonious, who is practically an uncle to her.

            “I’d have thought C’s actually.” Jasper laughs but then immediately stops when Clarke glares at him and Lexa narrows her eyes dangerously at him. “Sorry.” He mumbles and looks away from the two women. 

            Thelonious is the first to break the awkward silence. “So it seems like the bees have dissipated, so we should probably get the water back to camp. I think Jasper and I should stay and continue to go through what we can of the wreckage.”

            “Do you know how to get back to the beach from here?” When Thelonious nods his head, Lexa returns it. “OK, Clarke and I will bring the water back to the beach. Make sure to be back before dark, and don’t worry about carrying everything back, we can get the rest tomorrow.”

            “Oh, wait! My suitcase is here, and I want to grab a couple things from it.” Lexa and Thelonious both look at a now blushing Clarke, as she thinks about the thing she wants the most from her suitcase, a pair of her own underwear and a bra that will actually fit her well.

            Lexa ignores Clarke’s strange behavior to fill up the last few water bottles and pack them up into the four bags, while Thelonious heads towards the wreckage to sift through the luggage. Once Clarke has her clothing items, she tucks them in the backpack that Lexa hands her and follows the brunette out of the cave back to the beach.

 

* * *

            Raven and Monty are back to building antennas when Lincoln and Octavia walk in with two grilled pieces of fish on large leaves.

            “Hey guys, you hungry?” Octavia cheerily asks the two.

            “Oh yeah, I am _ready_ for some fresh fish.” Raven cheers as she sets down her work and holds out her hands, wiggly her fingers greedily. Octavia chuckles and hands over her fish to Raven, while Lincoln hands a piece to Monty.

            While Raven immediately starts wolfing her fish down, pulling bones out of her mouth as she encounters them, Monty picks more delicately at his piece of fish, although with his hunger it doesn’t take him too long to eat his piece. “Great job you guys. They were cooked perfectly.”

            “Yeah, O, you better wife him up if he can cook like this.” Raven teases as she rubs her stomach, which hurts from the way she had practically inhaled her food.

            Octavia blushes and Lincoln smiles, holding up his hand to stage whisper to Raven, “The secret is Eucalyptus. And the salt and pepper packets from the plane.”

            “Wow, when you salvaged the wreckage you really salvaged… everything.” Raven compliments Lincoln.

            Lincoln brushes off the compliment with a shrug. “It’s just part of our training. Salt is particularly useful as a preservative, and pepper is great seasoning. Just basic stuff. Ow!” Lincoln winces as he rubs the bicep that Octavia had just not so gently punched.  

            “You told me you were going to give me survival training yesterday and you never did!” Octavia raises her voice and narrows her eyes at Lincoln.

            “We were all a little busy yesterday, don’t you think Octavia? Was the punch really necessary?” Monty raises an eyebrow at Octavia as he defends his fellow man.

            Lincoln holds his hand up at Monty and smiles at Octavia. “It’s OK, you are right, I did promise to teach you. But we have plenty of time now, if you would like to start?”

            Octavia shouts with joy and grabs Lincoln’s arm to pull him from the tent as fast as his crutch will allow him to go.

            Monty and Raven both chuckle and share a knowing grin as the two depart from the tent. Monty goes back to working with wires while Raven gently lowers herself down to the bed she had made from airline cushions. Her leg is hurting her and she needs to take a pain killer, which always make her drowsy so she might as well take a nap. With the water shortage, she has to dry swallow the pill, and coughs as she manages to choke it down.

Monty looks up from his work to check on Raven, but finds her closing her eyes and pillowing her arms underneath her head, so he goes back to work. After a few minutes, Raven breaks the silence, bored while waiting for her pain relief. “Where did you learn to do all this?”

“Me?” Monty asks, having thought that Raven had fallen asleep.

“Is there anyone else in this tent that I’m not aware of?” Raven teases him, smiling and gesturing around the tent with one arm, although both of her eyes remain closed.

Monty huffs a laugh and goes back to work. “I went to MIT and majored in computer science. While there, I also joined the robotics club.”

“Wow man, good for you!” Raven mumbles sleepily, finally starting to feel the effects from her pain medication.

“What about you?” Monty turns in his chair to look at Raven, but finds her jaw slack and her body relaxed in sleep. Glad that she is finally getting some rest and time to be pain free, Monty turns back to his work, but just stares blankly at it as he remembers the day he got accepted to MIT.

 

* * *

_“Mom! Mom! Look!” Monty screams as he runs across the field waving a letter in his hands. Hannah looks up from where she is fixing a fence to watch their cows run away from the frantic looking boy. Hannah starts to worry, until she sees the smile on her son’s face and knows that it could only be good news._

_“Mom! I got into MIT!” Monty shouts as he jumps into her arms._

_“That’s great sweetie!” Hannah laughs as she stumbles back from the weight of her 17-year-old son. “Where else did you get in?”_

_Monty folds the letter in his pocket and grabs the empty pair of work gloves from the truck, an extra jump in his step as he steps up next to his mom to help hold the fence still while she works on it. “I didn’t even look at the other letters, I just saw the one from MIT, opened it, and came straight here. Isn’t this amazing?”_

_Hannah tries to hide the apprehension from her face as she smiles back at her ecstatic son. “You’re so smart Monty, I knew you’d get in.”_

_As excited as he is, Monty doesn’t miss his mother’s facial expression. “What’s wrong, mom?”_

_“You know I never went to college, so I went in to the high school last week to talk to your advisor about how all of this works. I know MIT is your dream school, I’m just worried about the cost. I want to do everything I can to help you accomplish your dreams, son, you know that, but the farm has been struggling these past few years, and I just don’t know…” Hannah trails off to hide her increasing emotions about failing her only son._

_“Mom, it’s OK.” Monty tells her as he pulls her into a hug. “I already applied for scholarships and financial aid, and I can always take out loans. If I need to, I can always get a part-time job.”_

_“I just want you to be able to focus on your studies, not worrying about how you’re going to be paying for school. Besides tuition, there’s food and textbooks to buy, and rent, not to mention flights back home, and new clothes… I just want to give you everything, and I can’t.” Hannah tells her son as she hugs him tighter._

_“It’ll work out, Mom. We’ll figure it out in the end.” Monty whispers to her._

 

* * *

Lexa had been in front when they first were walking towards the beach, but around the time they were halfway there, Clarke had brushed past her and pulled the second bag off Lexa’s shoulders. “Why do you insist on disobeying every doctor’s order I give you?” Clarke grunts as she lifts the weight of a second water bottle filled bag onto her shoulder.

“Clarke, I’m fine. You should let me carry that.” Lexa tries to take the bag back from Clarke, but the blonde just swings around and whacks Lexa with her backpack, slinging the side strap over her shoulder and leading the way back to the beach.

“I’ll be fine. Plus, we’re about halfway back, so it’s my turn to carry the third bag anyways.”

Lexa sighs in frustration but decides to choose her battles and let Clarke carry the bag. Although she is loath to admit it, her shoulder has been hurting, and this will allow her to shift more weight from the backpack onto her good shoulder and off her still injured one. Trusting Clarke to know the way back, Lexa eyes glaze over as she stares straight ahead and continues walking, going over plans in her head.

After a few long moments of silence, Clarke is worried that she has offended the recently grumpy brunette, so she checks over her shoulder with a tentative smile to make sure Lexa isn’t truly mad at her. What she sees makes her grin, and she stops suddenly. Lexa almost runs into Clarke, but puts her hands on the blonde’s backpack to steady herself. “Were you checking me out?” Clarke smirks at the brunette.

Lexa blinks twice, trying to break completely free of her thoughts. “What?”

This only causes Clarke’s grin to widen. “You were totally staring at my ass! Not that I mind, but…”

Before Clarke can finish, Lexa takes a step back and immediately denies it. “No, of course not, I wouldn’t demean you that way.”

Clarke only raises her eyebrow, distinctly remembering one or two glances that had lasted only a second too long. “Suuuuure…” She makes sure to draw out the word as she smirks at the blushing brunette. When Lexa doesn’t seem as if she is going to admit it, Clarke takes a step towards her, and Lexa holds her ground, refusing to give in to the shorter woman’s intimidation tactic. Clarke crowds Lexa’s personal space, ignoring the look of confusion on the soldier’s face. “So, if you weren’t checking me out, what were you thinking about?” Clarke husks out.

Lexa is conflictingly confused and turned on at the same time. Is Clarke flirting with her? When they had first gone into the jungle, she thought there had been flirting, but then Clarke had said she had a boyfriend, and her childhood best friend, who clearly had romantic feelings for her, was always hanging around. But this, Lexa doesn’t know what this, standing too close to each other and talking about asses, was. “I was thinking about moving to the caves.”

“What? _That_ ’s the excuse you come up with?” Clarke smiles as she teases the stoic brunette.

Lexa decides that now is the time to take a step back and get some space from the blonde as she outlines the plan she has been turning over in her head. “It’s not an excuse when I _was_ actually thinking about it. I used to plan missions all the time in my head when not leading my unit; all I had to do was follow the person in front of me. If 46 people need to drink 1 to 2 liters of water a day, assume 2 with the heat and physical exertion, then that’s 92 liters of water. We need miscellaneous water for cooking and things like that, so let’s round up to 100 liters of water a day. We have around 75 water bottles, which means that we would have to take at least two trips. Let’s assume that we use 25 water bottles to use around camp in addition to the cups and bottles in checked luggage, then that leaves 50 water bottles to use hauling water, so that’s two trips every day to the caves. We have the tarp to store water in, so at least we don’t have to wait for people to drink the bottles. Based on the time it took us to get to the caves today, I would allow an hour of travel time for both ways, plus time to fill the bottles and rest, so conservatively two hours each trip. Backpacks and weight limit how many water bottles a person can carry, so that means at least 4 people will need to spend 4 hours a day just carrying water back and forth to the beach, for a total time of 16 hours. We’re close to the equator so we get about 12 hours of sunlight every day, 12 times 46, put that under 16, that’s almost 3% of our available man hours spent on just obtaining water.”

Clarke allows a frown to form on her face as she tries to follow Lexa’s math. “You did that in your head?”

Lexa nods and turns Clarke around to continue walking, this time side by side. “Yes. I’m in charge of planning missions, I have to do a lot of calculations.”

Clarke wishes she could pull out her phone and check Lexa’s calculations, just so she could put off having to actually process what Lexa had said for a few seconds longer. “You said 3% of our time would be spent collecting water, is that bad?”

Lexa shrugs her shoulders as she holds aside some leaves for Clarke to pass by. “It’s not bad, per say, it’s just a considerable junk of time we could be spending doing something else every day, not to mention the people that will be getting the water will be some of our most physically fit, who could better do tasks that aren’t easy manual labor. We have a lot of things that we need to be doing, to take care of everyone. Hunting animals, gathering food, building more permanent shelters, helping Raven and Monty with the transceiver, cooking, cleaning clothes, building some sort of latrine and shower system, keeping a signal fire burning, collecting firewood for cooking, creating defenses for camp, mapping the island for other resources, trying to find other survivors…” Lexa trails off as Clarke’s eyes widen considerably.

“Sounds like you’re planning for an indefinite stay.”

Lexa refuses to meet Clarke’s eyes at first, unsure if her usual stoic façade is enough to keep Clarke out. “Don’t worry, it’s just a hope for the best, plan for the worst kind of thing that’s been ingrained in me.”

When Lexa sends her a reassuring smile, Clarke tries to return it, but she senses that there’s more to it. It _has_ been 6 days, and there’s still no sign of anyone coming to get them. Maybe it’s time to start thinking more long term? But the reality of what that means, that no one is going to come for them and they are going to be trapped on this island forever, is too terrifying to even contemplate, so Clarke chooses to ignore it for now. “Alright, so how do you propose that we fix this ‘waste of time’ as you so put it?”

“Well, the caves would make an excellent natural shelter. There’s an unlimited supply of freshwater; they are cooler in the day and warmer at night; they provide protection from the sun, wind, and predators; and if people become sick or get injured, it would be a safer and more comfortable place for them to heal.”

Clarke frowns, disliking the conclusion Lexa is leading her towards. “Essentially, you want us to move to the caves?”

            Lexa nods slowly, watching Clarke closely for her reaction. “Not all of us, but most of us. It would be safer and easier for us all to survive there. Obviously, a few people should remain on the beach in case rescue happens to come by, but until Raven and Monty have a way to get in contact with people, it’s the best course of action.”

            “Uh huh.” Clarke hums, thinking the idea over in her mind. Everything that Lexa has said appeals to her logically, but to her it just feels like they are giving up hope of rescue, something she does not want to do. Are they just supposed to move to the caves until eventually everyone dies off from disease or injury? Live like cavemen with sharpened sticks? Will she and Lexa be the only two left, like some crazy biblical Eve and Eve? It wouldn’t be a bad life, she could grow old painting cave drawings until they both succumb to old age and their home becomes a tomb for them. Clarke nearly laughs at the absurdity of it. Who is she kidding; the idea of never getting rescued and never getting to fix things with her mom and never getting to do simple things like watch TV again absolutely terrifies her.

            Lexa watches the emotions flicker across Clarke’s face until the dominant one becomes fear. Immediately, Lexa grabs the blonde’s hand, wanting to distract her from whatever thoughts have oh so clearly terrified her. “Clarke, it’s going to be fine. I promise, we’re going to…”

            Lexa is interrupted by a shouting Octavia. “Oh, I see, instead of bringing back water for the people dying of dehydration, you use the opportunity to go on a romantic stroll. I see how it is.” Octavia half jokes and half yells at the pair.

            Lexa immediately drops Clarke’s hand, deflecting the fiery woman’s accusation. “Why are you alone in the jungle?”

            Octavia huffs. “What are you, like 4 years older than me?” When Lexa only stares fiercely at Octavia, the smaller brunette holds up her hands in surrender. “Yeah, yeah, I know, jungle dangerous, don’t go alone, blah blah blah. But I’m not alone, Lincoln is with me.”

            Trying to forget her previous thoughts until she has more time to talk to Lexa about them, Clarke enters the conversation and gestures around the clearing with one arm. “Where is he then?”

            Octavia frowns, remembering her previous failures. “He’s training me. Said that first I must become one with nature and learn to walk silently through the jungle. He’s sitting in a clearing about 40 yards that direction,” Octavia waves one hand behind her, “and I’m supposed to sneak up on him, but it’s impossible.”

            Lexa can’t hide her snigger, earning her a fierce glare from Octavia and a raised eyebrow from Clarke. “Well you two are very loud as you walk through the jungle.”

            Clarke rolls her eyes and gently pushes Lexa to the side. “Care to show us how it’s done then, Jungle Jane?”

            Hoping that this will be a welcome distraction for Clarke, Lexa decides to play along. “Alright, you two walk that way and stop once you get to the edge of the clearing that Lincoln is in. Try to be as quiet as you can, so he thinks you’re sneaking up on him. I’m going to circle around the other direction.”

            Octavia appears skeptical but does as Lexa orders, taking one of the backpacks from Clarke and then leading her towards the clearing. The two stop once they get to the edge of the forest, and Clarke sees Lincoln sitting in the middle with his eyes closed and both legs stretched out in front of him as he leans back on his arms.

            “I can hear you, Octavia!” Octavia pouts, as she felt she had been silent, but she decides to blame it on a heavily breathing Clarke, who had just spent all morning hiking with a bag full of water. Octavia sees Lexa emerging from the opposite direction of them, and nudges Clarke, who looks up just in time to see Lexa holding a water bottle in front of her and holding one finger up to her plump lips in the ‘shhhh’ sign.

The pair watches as Lexa steps into the middle of the clearing, slowly walking towards an unsuspecting Lincoln. Lexa manages to sneak up right behind her friend, only a few inches away, before she sends Clarke a wink and upends the entire bottle over Lincoln’s mostly bald head.

In his surprise, Lincoln’s eyes shoot open, only to have the water flow directly into them. He tries to rub the water from his eyes and only ends up falling flat on his back once he’s lost the support of his arms, where he sucks in a breath and accidentally swallows some water, rolling onto his side as he chokes.

The side of Clarke that is a medical professional wants to be concerned about the poor man, but the other side that is watching Octavia rolling and wheezing on the ground in laughter and the radiant, triumphant smile floating off Lexa overrides that as she starts laughing one of the most genuine laughs she has let loose since they crash landed.

Lexa feels her smile grow bigger as she sees how happy Clarke is, but remains aware enough to jump back several feet as soon as she hears Lincoln stop spluttering, just barely missing his outstretched arm trying to retaliate.

“What the hell, Lex?”

             “This is how you’re teaching Octavia survival skills? This is straight out of the Lion King 2. Dark broody outsider tries to win affections of rebellious princess? Sound familiar?”

            “If anyone is broody it’s _you_.” Lincoln huffs as he holds out his hand for Lexa to help him up. When Lexa hesitates, he sends her a sweet smile. “C’mon, I’m injured, help a guy out.”

            Warily, Lexa holds out her hand, only to have Lincoln pull her down on top of him, where he proceeds to put her in a headlock. The two playfully wrestle back and forth for a few moments, one gaining the upper hand only to lose it a moment later.

            “Do you think we should stop them?” Clarke asks in concern after a few minutes have passed and there doesn’t appear to be an end to the play fight in sight.

            “Naw, this is too good. I’m learning so many new moves that I can use on Bellamy!” Octavia grins gleefully.

            Meanwhile, Lincoln puts Lexa in an arm bar, and just as she’s about to break it, he grunts out, “Give or I’ll tell Clarke about your collection.”

            Lexa goes completely still and hisses at Lincoln. “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

            “Collection of what?” Clarke calls out, raising an eyebrow in interest.

            Lexa and Lincoln continue to have a stare down, and when Lincoln raises his eyebrow and opens his mouth, Lexa quickly smacks his leg. “I give.” Lincoln smiles and immediately releases Lexa, who starts rubbing circulation back into her arm, pouting about the fact that now both her arms are sore.

            Clarke takes a seat next to Lexa while Octavia is congratulating Lincoln on his victory. “Lexa, collection of _what_?”

            “Nothing Clarke, it’s nothing. Just Lincoln being… Lincoln.”

            “I bet it’s sex toys.” Clarke, Lexa, and Lincoln all turn to Octavia with wide eyes. “What?” She shrugs. “What could possibly be more embarrassing than a room full of sex toys? Are you into BDSM or something?”

            “No!” Lexa sputters as Lincoln starts laughing at Lexa’s expression. “It’s nothing like that at all.”

            “So is this going to be another one of your mysterious secrets? Just like you won’t tell me what your tattoos mean?” Clarke questions as she pulls out two bottles of water and hands them to Lincoln and Octavia.

            Lincoln smiles evilly. “I know what her tattoos mean.”

            Lexa holds up a finger and her face looks stern as she commands him, “Don’t. You. Dare. Or I’ll tell Octavia what _your_ tattoos mean.”

            Lincoln narrows his eyes but holds out his hand. “Truce?” He smiles when Lexa firmly shakes his hand.

            “Awww man, but I wanna know what they mean!” Octavia whines.

            “Don’t worry O, I’m sure you can get it out of him using other means of persuasion.” Clarke winks at her.

            Lincoln blushes and Lexa smirks at his red cheeks and a happily grinning Octavia. For just a few moments, it felt like they were just normal group of friends, and no one is eager to break out of that fantasy.

 

* * *

         Jasper felt like he had been going through wreckage for hours, although it had only been around two hours. He knows it’s because he hasn’t had a fix since last night, and it’s starting to show as he gets jumpier. Thelonious appears to be occupied with a suitcase, so he quietly starts walking out of the cave.

             Thelonious notices Jasper leaving, so he quickly gets up and follows the skinny man. Once they get to the mouth of the cave, Jasper whips around to face him.

            “Are you following me?” Jasper accuses the older man.

            “Yes.” Thelonious replies calmly with a smile.

            “Well don’t bother, I’m just going to the loo.”

            “Is there something you’re hiding, Jasper?” Thelonious asks, only to receive an angry glare from the younger man. “It’s dangerous out there, as evidenced by the last time you went into the jungle alone. We shouldn’t be out of each other’s sights.”

            “Piss of, man.” Jasper flips Thelonious the bird and turns around to leave.

            “I know who you are.” Thelonious calls out before Jasper can get too far away. “And I know what you’re looking for.”

            Jasper tries to hide his surprise as he turns around. There’s no way this old guy could know about his drugs, he has kept everything hidden.

            “You were in Dropship. Bass, correct?”

            Jasper smiles, remembering his glorious days as a rock star, but more importantly, his days playing music. “And guitar! I also wrote the songs.”

            Thelonious smiles and leads Jasper towards a piece of wreckage, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to Jasper as they take a seat. “I may be old, but my son is not, and your songs were always on the radio when it was his turn to choose the station.” Jasper’s smile on grows wider, and Thelonious knows that he has finally gotten the young man to be more open to him. “How long since you played?”

            Jasper checks his watch as he thinks about it. “Probably around 8 days and eleven hours.”

            “Probably, uh?” Thelonious jests, smiling widely at Jasper, who is now picking at one of his bee stings. “Do you miss it?”

            Jasper’s face becomes solemn as his eyes meet Thelonious’. “It feels like a part of me is missing. Some bloke at the counter wouldn’t let me carry it on the plane. I was skeptical of it making it through that unscathed, but now, after the plane has crashed? The odds are not looking good for me.”

            Thelonious leans over and pats Jasper on the knee. “You’ll see it again. Just have faith. There’s still a lot of wreckage to go through yet.”

            Jasper looks skeptical, but nods and gets up to go back to looking through the wreckage.

* * *

            “Wait, you want to move everyone to the caves? What about the rescue parties?” Octavia squints at Lexa, clearly skeptical of her plans.

            “Well like I said to Clarke, not everyone would go. Some people would stay behind to keep the signal fire burning and stuff like that. But this is what’s best for the group as a whole.”

            “What happened to live together, die alone?” Octavia yells at the other brunette.

            Lincoln puts his hand on Octavia’s arm to calm her down. “Easy Octavia, it’s just a discussion. No one’s making you do anything yet.”

            Octavia turns her attention on Lincoln now, not calmed in the slightest. “Is this you actually agreeing with her, or just blindly following a commanding officer? Just give up all hope of rescue? It’s only been 6 days! Planes and ships could be out there right now looking for us, and if we move inland, they could pass us by and not even know we’re here!”

            Lincoln sighs and quickly glances towards Clarke, who is anxiously fiddling with the watch on her wrist, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “O, you know how unlikely that is.” Lincoln mumbles, referring to the distress signal that had been on a loop for 15 years. Octavia pales and looks away at his reminder, having tried to forget that little horrifying fact. Lincoln looks up at Lexa, who is glancing worriedly at Clarke and Octavia. He does trust Lexa implicitly, but that doesn’t mean he won’t question her if he feels that she is wrong. In this circumstance, he thinks she is right, but getting people to accept it is going to be extremely difficult if not impossible.

            “I’m not ready to give up hope yet.” Clarke murmurs the first thing she has said in a while.

            Lexa gently rests her fingertips on Clarke’s arm, prompting blue eyes to meet green. “You wouldn’t be. It doesn’t take 46 people to keep a fire burning, or write a signal in the sand. Monty and Raven will still be working on communications, and they can do that from anywhere. Moving to a more habitable location does _not_ mean that you are giving up hope.”

            “I’ll go.” Octavia looks up, her eyes a little red from holding back tears.

            Lincoln squeezes Octavia’s hand and smiles at her. “Good. And it’s not like you’ll never go back to the beach, it’s only a 30-minute walk. You’ll still be able to work on your tan.”  
            Octavia huffs and shoves Lincoln over. “Shut up.”

            “We should probably get back to the beach, everyone’s probably thirsty.” Clarke says as she gets to her feet. She barely waits for everyone to gather their things before she is leading the group back towards camp.

            Sensing Clarke’s distress, Lexa lets Octavia catch up with the blonde doctor and instead decides to stay back to talk to Lincoln. Quietly murmuring in Trigedasleng, she asks him, “ _Do you really agree with me, or were you just backing me up in front of them_?”

            Lincoln keeps his gaze focused on Octavia and Clarke in front of him, not wanting to call too much attention to their conversation. “ _I agree that it’s a good idea for most of us to move to the caves, but I imagine there’s going to be incredible resistance. It might be time to tell them about the transmission we heard, so they could make a more informed decision. At least tell Clarke, she deserves to know_.”

            Lexa sighs, knowing that she probably should tell Clarke, but at the same time worried about how emotional she had been lately, running off into the woods alone. Her head was telling her that they couldn’t have their only doctor going missing, and with how devastated Clarke had looked earlier, her heart was telling her that she didn’t want to put the blonde woman through any more pain. “ _Maybe in a couple days, once things are more settled. You saw what happened yesterday, we can’t have a repeat of that_.”

            Lincoln sighs internally, Lexa could be so stubborn sometimes, and the longer she waits, even to spare Clarke pain, the likelier it is that someone will let it slip to her. “ _I’ll follow your lead on this one, Leksa, but know that I think you’re making the wrong decision_. _You should tell her_.” Lexa stares longingly at Clarke, but doesn’t respond as the beach is now within sight. At this moment, Lincoln wishes that Anya were here; Anya was always the best at talking to Lexa when the stoic woman let her emotions get to her.

 

* * *

          Clarke had been sitting quietly on the beach, staring out at the ocean, when Bellamy had come storming up to her. “Clarke, do you know what Lexa’s doing?”

            Clarke resists groaning in annoyance at the interruption. “Yes, Bellamy, I’m aware.”

            “So you’re just going to let it happen? Let people go live at the caves when we should be _here_ trying to get rescued?” Bellamy yells as he gesticulates wildly.

            “I’m not going to stop people from making their own decision, if that’s what you’re implying. We’re all adults here, and Lexa is right, not everyone needs to be on the beach.” Clarke glares at Bellamy, knowing that he’s most likely angry about his sister deciding to move to the caves without him.

            Angry that Clarke wasn’t being more helpful, he storms off back down the beach, headed straight for Lexa who is speaking to a group of people that Clarke had only seen in passing.

            Murphy, who is walking nearby, chuckles at the scene taking place and saunters closer to Clarke, who has now turned her glare on him. “He’s more pissed about his sister shacking up with Tarzan than he is concerned about the caves situation, which doesn’t surprise me at all. What does surprise me, however, is that you aren’t packing your bags. Isn’t this like every lesbian’s dream, U-hauling it after only knowing each other after 6 days?”

            “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m bisexual.”

            “Oh, so I’ve still got a chance with the hot doctor everyone’s been falling all over themselves for?” Murphy smirks at Clarke and sends her a wink.

            Clarke responds by rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. “Well now that my peace and quiet has been disturbed… Was there something that you needed?”

             “Just wondering where you’re gonna weigh in on this situation, Princess Peach.”

            Clarke raises her eyebrow in curiosity. “Why do you care where I go?”

            Murphy shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a survivor, and you’re the only doctor on the island. From what I can see, the boar hunter will stay here on the beach,”

            “His name is Wells.” Clarke growls.

            “Whatever. But there’s also water at the caves, and there’s only the hot sun here. I guess it depends on if you consider yourself a pessimist or an optimist.”

            Despite the hesitance she feels, Clarke decides to play along. “I guess I would consider myself more of an optimist.”

            “Ah, so you’ll be staying to wait for rescue with the rest of the optimists, although I don’t see much to be optimistic about, seeing as how that guy has been waiting 15 years to be rescued.”

            Clarke frowns at Murphy’s comment, thoroughly confused. “What guy? What are you talking about?”

            “Oops.” Murphy winces and then shrugs his shoulders. “Well, I guess it was going to come out sooner rather than later. Remember when we took the transceiver to the top of the mountain? We told everyone that we didn’t get a signal, but we did. Someone has been broadcasting a distress signal from the island for the past 15 years. I’m surprised your girlfriend forgot to mention it.”

            Clarke can only stare at Murphy, gaping like a fish. She is in shock about the news and what this means for their survival and rescue, but she is also feeling really betrayed. Everyone who went on the trip must know, and most likely Raven. Suddenly, a lot of their and Lexa’s action suddenly make sense. _Lexa_. How could she not tell her? It _couldn’t_ be her.

            Murphy watches the emotions and thoughts pass over Clarke’s face and is about to try to snap her out of it when she straightens off and leaves, without another word. “Well I guess they won’t need a U-haul after all.” Murphy chuckles as the blonde disappears amongst the other survivors.  

* * *

          “Do both of you know?” Clarke angrily yells as she storms into The Workshop. Raven jumps and Monty drops the electronic he is working on in surprise at the blonde’s sudden interest.

            “Do both of us know what?” Monty asks nervously.

            Clarke steps closer, not wanting to yell out anything that the other survivors could overhear. She appreciates the need for discretion with the others, but she’s one of the leaders. “Don’t play dumb. Murphy told me about the distress call, and I know you both must know what’s going on.”

            Monty pales and Raven grumbles, “That little rat.”

            “Why the hell did no one tell me?” Clarke hisses, her eyes fiery with anger despite their cool color.

            “If it was up to me, I would have told you. I wasn’t even there when they made that decision.”

            Clarke turns her attention to Monty, who looks down at his hands in shame. “Who, and why?” Clarke growls lowly.

            “Lexa.” Monty whispers. Clarke immediately storms from the tent, and Monty calls after her, “Wait, Clarke!” but the blonde doesn’t slow even a little bit.

            Raven throws up her hands in frustration. “Well that was a shit show. I told you we should have told her.”

            Monty wishes he could warn Lexa about the storm that is heading for her, but he knows that there’s no way he’s going to beat a rampaging Clarke towards her target. Bending down to pick up the item he had dropped, he mumbles to himself, “She was just trying to protect her.”  

* * *

          _Monty looked up from his homework as soon as he heard a car turning down their farm lane. It was unusual, as they rarely got visitors all the way out at the farm. However, as soon as he sees the 3 letters stamped onto the side of the black van and the two police cars behind them, he gets up so fast from the table that he knocks his chair over._

_Monty bursts outside the house running as fast as he can to the barn where his mother is. When he hears the loud sound of an approaching helicopter, he pumps his arms faster. Monty had never been a big fan of sports, but at that moment he felt as if he could beat everyone on the track team with how hard he was pushing himself. When he sees his mom step out of the barn, wiping her hands on a rag and looking around in confusion, he quickly pushes her back inside and drags the barn door closed._

_“Monty, what’s going on? Why is there a helicopter out there?”_

_Out of breath and trying to hold back tears, Monty’s words start pouring out of him frantically. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think I would get caught, I’m so sorry.”_

            _Hannah grabs Monty by the shoulders and forces him to sit down on a nearby crate. She bends down in front of him and puts one hand on his shoulder and the other on his face to steady him. “Monty sweetie, calm down. What’s going on?”_

_“This guy at school, Tyson, he gave me something. He knew I was smart and aced our agriculture class, and found out I got into MIT… He said no one would find out, I just planted some down by the back creek under the trees and then... It was only supposed to be for a few months, until I made enough to afford rent at college, I swear!”_

_Before Hannah can reply, there is a loud pounding on the door. “Ma’am, this is the DEA, we’ve got a warrant to search the premises! I need you to open this door immediately!”_

_Monty looks at his mom with anguish and she leans forward to give him a brief but tight hug. As she pulls back she gives him a kiss on his forehead. “It’s going to be OK.”_

_“Ma’am! I’m giving you until the count of three!” The man yells again._

_“Alright! I’m coming out!” Hannah yells as she slowly pushes the barn door open and steps out with her hands raised._

_“Hannah Green?” The tall, dark-haired man asks, one hand on his gun and the other displaying the warrant._

_“Yes, that’s me. Please, there’s no need for violence. I’m not resisting. My son is right there.”_

_The man peers around Hannah and notices the crying boy. He drops his hand off the butt of his gun and begins to read the warrant to Hannah, who only stands there listening quietly._

_“Roy, you there?”_

_The man pulls out the walkie talkie from his back pocket and replies to the unseen voice. “I’m here.”_

_“From the chopper it looks like we’ve got around 20 or so plants down here.”_

_Roy radios back, “Alright. I’ll send the guys down, direct them once they get there, then head back in.” He tucks his walkie talkie back into his pocket and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. “Ma’am, you are under arrest for the illegal possession of a controlled substance. You have the right to remain silent.”_

_“Nooo!” Monty screams and runs towards his mother, trying to stop them, but another agent grabs him and holds him back as the DEA agent continues to read the Miranda warning._

_Hannah doesn’t resist, but before she is led away, she turns her head around to yell to her son. “Sell the farm, Monty. Use the money to go to school. I’ll be OK. I love you.”_

_That was the last time he had seen his mother free of prison, and he had been waiting for her to get out for 10 long years._

 

* * *

            It was now late afternoon, and Thelonious had been talking about spending the night in the caves to finish up going through the wreckage tomorrow. Jasper had agreed, and now the two were out in the jungle collecting firewood. Jasper had used the opportunity to sneak away, picking up some small sticks under the ruse that he was just wandering off accidentally. When he thinks he’s far enough away, he starts reaching into his pocket, only to hear the snap of a twig as Thelonious comes out from behind a tree right in front of him.

            “Listen, I just need a moment alone for some privacy! Do you have some kind of fetish or something? I just want a moment alone to go to the bathroom! Jasper’s face is starting to turn red from his anger, and he shoves his hands in his pockets to hide their small tremors.

            Thelonious holds out his hand, face as calm as ever. “Just give it to me.”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jasper hisses as he takes a step back.

            “You’re going to run out eventually. I’m guessing pretty soon. No matter what, you’re going to go through withdrawal. But it’s your choice when that happens. It can be your own choice, or the only choice you have.”

            “What makes you think you know anything about what I’m going through!”

            “I know a lot more about not having a choice in life than you think. And I can tell you, making a hard choice is better than having none at all.” Jasper just rolls his eyes and turns his back to walk away from the older man. “Do you want your guitar?” Thelonious yells out, which actually stops Jasper.

            “Don’t play games with me.” Jasper desperately pleads with Thelonious, although he knows that there’s no way this man can guarantee anything to him.

            “Do you want it more than your drugs?” Thelonious asks, and when Jasper nods solemnly, he smiles. “This island is special. It can give you what you’re looking for, but you have to give it something in return.”

            When Thelonious holds out his hand, Jasper just looks at it for a moment, considering. This man must be crazy, there’s no way what he is saying could possibly be true. Yet, at the same time, Jasper is desperate for something that no high has ever been able to bring him. Reaching into his pocket, he slowly pulls out his dwindling supply of heroin and hands it over to Thelonious, who puts it in his own pocket.

            “So now what? We just go looking for my guitar? Or will I get a delivery while I’m sleeping like Santa Claus?”

            Thelonious smiles and claps the smaller man on the back. “Look up.”

            “Am I praying? Is that what this is?” Jasper asks, still staring at the man who he is now convinced is completely crazy.

            Thelonious just points up with his finger, and Jasper follows the direction, to where, halfway up a cliff, his guitar case is snagged on a branch. A smile stretches across his face and he almost feels as if he could cry in joy at seeing his beloved instrument.

 

* * *

         Clarke finds Lexa in her tent packing up the last few of her items into a backpack. She stands there at the entrance of the cave, arms crossed, waiting for Lexa to turn around and acknowledge her.

            Lexa zips up her bag before turning around, having heard Clarke stomping through the sand and knowing that this won’t be a casual conversation. However, she is completely take off guard by the anger that is displayed on Clarke’s face. Lexa puts up her walls, knowing that whatever has happened, this isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

            “Can we talk?” Clarke growls.

            Lexa gives Clarke a curt nod and follows closely behind the blonde as she leads her farther down the beach, well out of ear shot of the rest of the survivors. Once they are far enough away that Lexa knows they won’t be overheard, even if they are yelling, she grabs Clarke’s shoulder to stop her, but Clarke shrugs it off and whips around, getting right in Lexa’s face.

            “I know.”

            Lexa refuses to back down and even leans imperceptibly closer to the blonde, showing that she won’t be pushed around. “Know what?”

            “The distress signal. Murphy told me.” Clarke laughs derisively. “Of all fucking people.”

            “He was there. I would not have chosen to tell him if I could have, for this exact reason.”

            Clarke puts her hands on Lexa’s shoulders and pushes her hard, not caring about the flash of pain that she knows comes from Lexa’s still injured shoulder. “Chose who to tell? So why didn’t I make the list, uh? When were you planning on telling me, after we still hadn’t been rescued in _15 years_? Lexa, why the _hell_ didn’t you tell me?”

            Lexa had stepped back when Clarke had pushed her, willing to get some space between the two of them. And while Clarke may be yelling, Lexa doesn’t need to in order to give her voice weight. “You’re the only one with medical experience. People will die without you, _Klark_. You are already under enough pressure and stress as it is, it would help nothing to add to it when there’s nothing you can do.”

            Clarke steps forward, invading Lexa’s space once more. “Oh, I get why the Commander made that decision, it makes perfect sense. I’m talking about _you_ , why _Lexa_ , the person who has become my _friend_ these past few days decided to lie to me, and to convince other people to as well! I’ve walked into The Workshop and had Monty and Raven stop talking and look guilty before. It all makes sense why you want to move to the caves, and why it was so easy to convince Octavia, Lincoln, and Bellamy to go with you. It’s because you think that we’re never going to get off this island! And now I understand why you were so quick to kill Gustus.” Lexa swallows hard at the mention of her now deceased friend, but remains silent. “But you don’t care about that, do you? As long as I don’t get myself killed running off into the forest on a stress induced craze!”

            Tears are streaming down Clarke’s face, and Lexa’s heart aches in a way that she didn’t think it ever would after Costia died. “I do care, Klark. But I made this choice with my head and not my heart. My duty to keep everyone alive comes first.”

            “Whatever you need to tell yourself, _Commander_.” Clarke angrily swipes at the tears rolling down her cheeks and turns away.

              Lexa knows she should leave so that they can reach the caves before darkness falls, but she can barely turn away from staring at Clarke’s back as it shakes silently with sobs at not only her betrayal, but at the fact that they may very well _die_ on this island. Lexa is completely shocked when a single tear rolls down her own cheek, and she knows that she must leave before she completely loses her composure altogether. “You know where to find me, if you need me.” Lexa whispers quietly, but she knows Clarke has heard her by the way the blonde’s back stiffens.

            “I won’t.” Clarke growls, voice rough from crying and yelling.

            Lexa wants to say more, feels like she should say more, but when she opens her mouth and her lip trembles ever so slightly, she clenches her jaw and turns away, wiping away her tear and taking deep breaths as she shoves her emotions down and slips on her Commander mask. 

* * *

            Raven and Monty were sitting by the fire, talking about whether they should move to the caves or not. It would be more comfortable, and they wouldn’t have to worry about the elements damaging the electronics they were working with, but Monty was worried about getting Raven to the caves safely with her brace.

            “Are you guys really considering moving to the caves?” Harper asks, taking a seat next to Monty.

            “Umm, I’m not sure yet. Right now, we’re leaning towards no.” Monty tells her, smiling at the opportunity to see Harper for the first time since this morning.

            Raven decides to be a good wing woman and carefully gets to her foot, balancing on the crutch so that she can keep her weight off her brace enclosed leg. Clarke had told her to stay still as much as possible, but her leg was completely immobilized, and the blonde wasn’t paying attention to anyone at the moment, just sitting alone at her own fire staring at the flames.

            Raven slowly makes her way towards the water, but before she can try to balance to scoop a bottle full from the tarp, Wells jumps up to help her.

            “Here, I got it.”

            Raven huffs, but thanks the man, mostly annoyed with herself and the fact that she can barely do anything without needing assistance. When Wells sits back down, Raven decides to sit on the log next to him. She hadn’t had the opportunity to talk much with Clarke’s childhood friend, even though they had been on the island for almost a week.

            “Do you know what’s wrong with Clarke?” Wells asks her, gazing at the blonde with concern.

            Raven feels bad for the poor woman, and clearly everyone had got the silent memo to stay away, as she has a fire all to herself. “I think it’s just all getting to her, about the crash and stuff. We still haven’t been rescued, and I think she got into a fight with Lexa about…” Raven hesitates, knowing that Wells could probably know the full extent of what’s going on, but not wanting to risk Lexa’s wrath, she decides to refrain from telling him. “moving to the caves, or something. I’m not really sure.”

            “I think I’m going to go check on her, if you don’t mind.”

            “Not at all.” Raven smiles, almost laughing at the fact that Clarke is literally a grumpy cat right now and people are still all over her. Maybe she needs to get her PhD, as clearly that whole doctor thing is working for the blonde. Raven does feel bad for the kind man though, as he clearly has unrequited feelings for his best friend.

            Wells quietly walks makes his way over to Clarke’s bonfire and sits down softly in the sand next to her. Clarke doesn’t acknowledge his presence; she just imperceptibly tightens the arms she has wrapped around the legs.

            Wells is familiar with this Clarke, the upset one who just wants to be left alone so she can bottle up all her feelings. He knew that trying to get her to talk would be like talking to a brick wall, so he just sits next to her and stares at the flames in solidarity. After a few long moments, he hears a sniffle, and Clarke lowers her head to his shoulder, legs still hugged to her chest. Carefully, Wells wraps his arm around her shoulders and comforts his friend, over what, he’s still not completely sure, but he knows that she’ll eventually tell him; that’s what best friends are for. That last thought nearly makes him wince at the pain in his chest, but when Clarke burrows her face tighter into his shoulder, Wells forgets it and places a soft kiss in her hair.

 

* * *

       About a mile and a half up the beach, Maya, Jasper, Thelonious, Bellamy, Octavia, Lincoln, and a couple more people sit around a couple fires, safe and warm inside the caves.

            Lincoln looks around, noticing that Lexa still hasn’t returned from when she had left around sunset, and he is starting to get worried. “I’m going to go check on Lexa.” He whispers to Octavia, earning a glare from her brother. Octavia nods her acknowledgement, giving his hand a quick squeeze. She knows how close the two are, and even though Lexa had been all business on the way to the caves, Monty had told Lincoln and her that Clarke knew about the transmission.

            Ignoring the glare from Bellamy, Lincoln steps out into the jungle, breathing in the cool night air. He looks around, but doesn’t see Lexa or any signs of her nearby. His next thought is to look up, and he sees a lone figure sitting on the hilltop above the cave. Resigning himself to a long hike, he slowly makes his way up the side of the hill, picking his way carefully through the rocks and bushes with his crutch.

            When he gets to the top, he lowers himself gently to the ground next to his Captain, noticing how she has her knees pulled to her chest with one arm wrapped around them and the other hand fingering the two pairs of dog tags that he knows are not her own. Lincoln aches for his friend, knowing how hard these past few weeks had been on himself and that Lexa would be feeling that much worse, but doing everything to hide it behind her mask.

            He has never missed Anya more than in this moment. Normally, she was a pain in his ass, but she was also Lexa’s best friend and older-sister-like figure and would know exactly what to do in a situation like this. Lincoln had always been the hugging type, and never felt shame about showing his emotions, but Lexa had always been so reserved.

            Going with his gut, Lincoln slides his arm around Lexa’s waist and pulls her flush against his side. Lexa tenses in his arms, pointedly looking straight ahead. “You were right.” She whispers, and Lincoln is confused, until he remembers their earlier conversation. He sighs, and when he notices that Lexa’s lookout gives her a direct view to the beach where several fires can be seen burning, he squeezes her even tighter to his side, content to stay here and offer whatever comfort that he can.  


End file.
